


Off the Wagon

by kunterbunt



Series: Off the Wagon [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Armor Kink, BDSM, Bondage, Consensual, D/s relationship, Discipline, Other, PWP, Power Exchange, Spanking, Tony's kind of humor, relationship angst and romance stuff, some actual plot, weird & kinky misuse of car utensils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunterbunt/pseuds/kunterbunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets into a new drunken adventure, crashing both a wedding and the bride’s vintage limousine. An exasperated Jarvis takes him to task for his behavior. - Kinky stuff and an odd kind of romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony wondered what had pulled him out of sleep. His mind was blurry and sluggish, until he felt tiny claws digging into his thigh. Something small and _alive_ was scrambling all over his body. He lay totally still for a moment. Waking up to weirdness was usually not good. 

He had a headache that got worse with every second. His brain felt like it wanted to spontanously implode. So the overwhelming question was: did he really want to know what was going on? A part of him was all for blessed ignorance, but after a short while survival instinct won out. Tony opened his eyes and blinked.

He’d expected to see hostile aliens at least – and what did that say about the surreality of his life? What he found instead was a nosy squirrel. It sat on his hip and twitched its nose. The thing was so cute it was disgusting. Tony halfway expected it to burst into song, which only proved that he had been brainwashed by Disney. 

Slowly, his scrambled brain came to the realisation that he hadn’t been kidnapped by flying saucers. He’d simply bummed it on a park bench, where the local wildlife had taken him for a felled log. The squirrel looked at him with shiny eyes and wagged its tail. Then it delved in and started digging for nuts. 

Tony gave an undignified yelp and pushed the animal off. The sudden movement made him fall from the bench, and he landed with a thud. “Ouch”, he muttered.

He kept lying there for a moment, nursing the hangover from hell, and stared into the treetops. Some memories drizzled in. There had been a party. The host had been a boring buzzkill and had actually thrown him out (him, Tony Stark!) after the thing with the flammable Bacardi and the popcorn machine. He had sulked for a while and then followed some other guests to a place with lot of champagne … nicely dressed-up girls … people with wigs playing chamber music. Weird. Perhaps that last part had been alcohol poisoning. Margarita made for pretty good hallucinations.

When no further memories appeared, Tony started the difficult process of getting upright. His head swam and for the first time he noticed that his Armani suit was ribbed in strange places. What the hell had happened yesterday? 

This was totally Jarvis’ fault. In his former life Tony wouldn’t have blackened out from a few harmless drinks. Sadly, his tolerance had lowered dramatically since … well, the incident. Getting sloshed was just no fun with a holier-than-thou butler hovering over his shoulder, so he didn’t do it anymore. Not at home, at least.

If he wanted to get drunk off his socks, he went out. 

Tony tried to brush the dirt from his knees, grumbling all the while about AI mother hens. Not only had Jarvis driven him out into the dark, cold night with his abolitionist attitude. Now Tony had to stay away from home until the Margarita Percentage in his blood had lowered to an acceptable level. Having a near to omniscient machine in his house could be a real bitch. Tony didn’t look forward to another dose of Jarvis’ special brand of TLC. 

To be totally honest, his stomach fidgeted at the mere thought of his butler’s reaction. Not a good feeling when hung-over. Before he could start puking into the bushes he convinced himself everything would work out fine. He could rent himself a nice hotel room and sleep it off. The laundry service would take care of his suit and remove all evidence of debauchery. Jarvis would have his suspicions, but there was no guilt without proof, right? He struggled to his feet, stood swaying for a while and then started to walk towards civilisation. 

The city noise and bustling crowds were a balm to his soul. Nature just wasn’t his thing, even in the form of a tiny public garden squeezed in between office buildings. He wasn’t surprised that he’d been attacked by rabid wildlife. The outdoors were plain evil. Who wanted to wake up to the rustling of trees and chirping of birds when instead you could have taxi drivers screaming at each other? Sweet, sweet music of New York. 

He steered in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. A huge dose of espresso was just what he needed to get his brain working again. The people passing by looked at him a bit strangely, but he was used to that. Being a celebrity and all. Who wouldn’t do a double take if faced with a drop dead sexy millionaire genius on a monday morning? 

Okay, there was a slight chance that it had more to do with the state of his clothes. Tony adjusted his tie in a reflexive gesture that didn’t help his overall appearance one bit, and walked a little faster. He really needed that coffee right now. Also, the sun was just too bright for his hung-over self.

A red traffic light forced him to wait on the sidewalk for a moment. He drummed his foot and looked around in impatient boredom. There was a newspaper machine at the side of the street. Tony squinted at the headline. 

His own face stared back at him. 

Tony groaned. This was not good. Especially as he had no idea what he had done to deserve the front page.

Reluctantly he took a step closer, studied the photo and winced. He’d seen pictures of himself that were less favorable, but not many. In this particular one, he stood before the ruined remnants of a car with a stoned out, wide eyed look. Blood was dripping from a nasty wound on his forehead. Tony reached up with one hand and yes, there it was: a scar running from his left eyebrow to his hairline like a knife cut. 

Mechanically, he put a coin into the machine and took the newspaper out. The story covered the whole page, and the journalist had a talent for vivid descriptions. Tony read the article with growing horror. It filled the holes in his memory nicely. 

He was totally doomed. His AI would blow a fuse when he learned about this. 

Tony stared at the newspaper and felt his buttocks clench in apprehension. His ass was toast. Or a slow roast, to be more precise. 

But hey, his AI had some sense of humour … and part of this was pretty funny, right? 

According to the parappazi he’d attended the wedding party of famous violinist Sarah Denocelli. He had a vague recollection of her face. False lashes and nice hairdo. Apparently, he’d made his entrance by french-kissing the bride and stating that “her new husband looked boring in bed anyway”. He’d then complained loudly about the absence of real music instead of “this classical shit”. When all the pling-pling got too much for him, he’d grapped the gilded harp from an appalled musician and started strumming _Highway to Hell_ on it. Which had been pretty cool according to the journalist. At the hight of his performance he’d smashed the instrument in real rockstar fashion. 

He’d insulted a record number of guests, gotten in a brawl with the security guards and been thrown out for the second time that night. In revenge he’d hot-wired the vintage cabriolet that had been the bride’s gift to the groom and driven off. On his way he’d ignored all speed limits and a few traffic lights, almost running over some Mexican girl who’d walked home from her late night shift on a cleaning crew.

His joy ride had ended abruptly when he’d lost control of the wedding car at a sharp corner and totaled it against a wall. He’d gotten out after a while, waved at the few onlookers who had gathered around and were busy shooting pictures with there mobiles (hence the photo in the tabloid), then he’d staggered off into the night. The wrecked car had mysteriously vanished later on ... 

Jarvis was going to kill him. No, he was going to do worse than that. He would get creative. He would make it memorable. One thing was for sure, Tony could never go home again. 

He leaned against the wall and banged his head against the bricks a few times. His brain pointed out that it didn’t need the extra josteling. So he resumed his search for espresso until a Starbucks sign appeared like a mirage at the end of the street. 

After the third dose of coffein he felt kind of human again. There were looks thrown his way by the pleb, but luckily he was good at ignoring people. 

He spend the rest of the day on a shopping spree. 

Playing Mr Rich-and-Cool while choosing designer sunglasses was always soothing to the nerves. It almost got his mind off what awaited him at home. 

He graciously allowed swarms of shop assistents to pay court to him. He bought himself a Märklin model railway with enough tracks to connect all the rooms in his living quarters. The big apple was his oyster. For a full ten hours he managed to pretend that he didn’t hide from his butler like a cowardly wimp. Then the sun went down and Stark Tower lighted up on the skyline. The building loomed over the rest of New York as a gigantic reminder. The logo blazed and screamed his name, fullfilling the role of a homing beacon. 

He had to go there eventually. Or not. He could spend the rest of his life right here in the streets. Perhaps build himself a shack out of cardboard boxes. That sounded kind of appealing, actually. Who needed a penthouse suite anyway? 

But Jarvis would probably send Pepper after him, and his CEO would drag him home by the ear. Or worse yet, Steve. 

He could envision that scene just perfectly. Captain America throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him to his well deserved doom. No wonder he’d never been a team person. Having minions was okay. Having equals totally sucked. 

Tony changed course reluctantly and walked towards the building. His feet dragged and his steps got slower with every yard. So this was the famous ’Taking Responsibility for Your Actions’ that Jarvis loved to lecture about. Tony didn’t like it one bit. What had happened to his life of glorious independence? The richest man in the city shouldn’t have to care about consequences. 

If you got yourself into a mess, you threw money at it. This was so unfair. 

Tony went through the door and waved his usual flirty greeting at the receptionist. His smile stayed firmly in place until he’d reached the elevator and stepped in. He rode up to his living quarters and watched the skyscraper’s floors move by. His anxiety rose with every single number on the panel. When he stepped out of the lift he was so jittery he wanted to crawl out of his skin. 

His butler greated him with his usual politeness. 

“I’m glad you’ve finally found your way home, Sir.” The voice was bland, but Tony could still hear the message loud and clear. 

“Yeah, thanks. You know how it is … things to do, places to be”, he said with forced brightness. 

“I know indeed. Now, if you would please proceed to your workshop.” 

Tony swallowed. So, no small talk. There was a clear hint of command to his AI’s voice. He took off his sunglasses and tried to look pathetic and puppylike. “Right, okay, I fucked up. Spectacularly. Really, I know that. Perhaps you can just yell at me a bit? We could have a serious adult talk that puts me in my place …” 

“I am more than happy to have a lenghy talk with you”, Jarvis said. “In the workshop. Where you will go right now.”

Tony’s shoulders sacked. He started towards the stairs that connected the living quarters and the working area. On his way he muttered: “Fuck the yellow press. If I didn’t happen to be Tony Stark, nobody would care about how I spend my time. But no, it’s all over the news and even my evil butler knows about it. I’m a stalking victim, that’s what I am.“ 

“Believe me, Sir, if anybody but Tony Stark had stolen a wedding limousine and crashed it, they would be in jail right now.”

Tony considered this and perked up a bit. “Is that still an option?”, he asked hopefully. “I’ll just ring the police and ...”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Sir.”

Tony sniffed. “Was that a pun? Because let me tell you, it was atrocious. NOT funny. I thought I’d designed you better than that. You know what, we should take care of that malfunction. Like right now. Come on, baby, let me take a screwdriver to your inner stuff.“ 

Jarvis sighed. “You should really stop talking, Sir. Because you tend to dig your own grave when you open your mouth.” Right, no humour at all. 

And by the way, shutting up wasn’t as easy as it sounded. When Tony was nervous, angry or drunk he simply lost control over the outrageous stuff he said. A bit like Tourette syndrome, really. So, not his fault at all.

He talked all his way past the laboratory that he’d recently given to Bruce Banner. With any luck the good doctor wasn’t here today to inquire about the strange noises that came out of the workshop. 

On the other hand, if Bruce was in, his lab could be the perfect place to hide until Jarvis had cooled off a bit. The jolly green was a real buddy. Tony swerved around and knocked at the door. No one answered. Damn.

“Dr Banner has gone out after seeing the picture in the paper this morning”, Jarvis informed him. “He said your lifestyle turns out to be just too stressful for him. And that wondering if you’d killed yourself for fun doesn’t help his inner peace.”

Tony’s stared at the door. Did that mean he’d driven Bruce out … permanently? He felt a bit sick at the idea. “But he’s coming back, right? I mean, he just moved in. The big guy isn’t on the run again and half the way to Bogotá?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Now, if you would please resume walking.”

Tony nodded, took a deep breath and started towards his own lab again. The metal doors at the end of the hall looked more and more forbidding. He felt himself beginning to sweat. His skin was tingling all over. There were goosebumps on his freaking ass. 

Why was he doing this anyway? He was accountable to no one, a superhero by his own rights, more powerful than the whole bloody senate and probably the president. And yet, here he was, shuffling towards his judgement like some … subby juvenile delinquent. When he reached the door, he put his hand on the handle but didn’t press down. His arm shook slightly. 

“The next thing to do would be to step inside, Sir”, Jarvis prompted with a hint of sarcasm. 

Tony didn’t move. He stared at the door as if it could suck him in and eat him alive. “I really don’t want to”, he said. 

“Well, this isn’t about your wishes for a change. I’m aware that this concept is still new to you, but what you _want_ doesn’t matter in the least right now. Do yourself a favor and obey.” 

The veiled threat was enough to push Tony into motion. He edged forward, took a shaky breath and pressed down the doorhandle. 

\-----------------------------

He stared at the scene in front of him.

In the middle of his workshop stood what had once been a 1935 Bugatti Type 57 Cabriolet. It had been a real beauty before Tony had stolen it – cream white paintwork, seats with red leather upholstery, fluid lines and a long-drawn slanting rear. Now the front part was a twisted heap of metal. The windshield was gone and had rained glass shards everywhere. The whole thing resembled a piece of modern art. Tony looked at it with sick fascination. 

“I got out of that alive?” 

“Strangely enough. And with barely a scratch, as I have noticed. I was somewhat concerned about your state, but then you turned up right as rain after just eleven hours of waiting …”

“Uhm, sorry about that.” He even meant the apology. Until now, Tony hadn’t considered that someone – least of all his AI – could have been seriously worried about him. He wasn’t used to the idea that people cared. Looking at the car wreck he had to admit that the driver should be in hospital at least. 

No wonder Jarvis wanted to tan his hide. 

“By any rights you should be half dead right now. Anyone else would be”, his butler scolded with his coolest british voice. “You seem to have an overzealous guardian angel, though, who safes you from the consequences of your actions. Well, I don’t hold with that. If you endanger yourself and others, you should feel it afterwards. So I’m going to inflict the pain you got spared from. Hopefully, you will learn something in the process.”

Tony had known what awaited him, of course, but now the situation started to feel uncomfortably real. His eyes flicked to the toolbox where his paddle was being kept. At the moment the thing stood in a dark corner of the room and looked menancing. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Sir”, Jarvis said sweetly, “I won’t use the ruler again. That would be boring. And we don’t want boring around this household, do we?” 

Tony shut his eyes for a moment. “I just _knew_ you would get inventive”, he mumbled. 

“You’ve given me a lot of imagination”, Jarvis agreed. “We’re lucky that you are such a genius, Sir.” 

Great. He had created a machine with an IQ of 4000 thinking up cruel and unusual punishments especially for him. 

“Now, please, take off your clothes and place yourself behind the car”, Jarvis ordered. 

Tony balled his hands into fists, then forced himself to move and start stripping. His designer clothes landed on the ground. The floor felt cold under his bare feet when he padded towards the trunk of the Bugatti. 

Jarvis let him stand there for a while and stare at the wreck, feeling dreadfully exposed. Tony didn’t exactly have a reputation for being body shy, but waiting for a whipping was somewhat different than waiting for sex. He’d never felt more naked in his life.

His butler seemed to communicate silently with the various robots in the workshop. Metal heads turned towards him and mechanical eyes wandered over his body. Tony had the horrible suspicion that Jarvis was informing the bots how to work on him in concert. They were used to team assignments. If every one picked some nicely sensitive part of him and concentrated on that … Tony blanched under his goatee. 

To his considerable relief they turned away with a chorus of chattering noises and swarmed the Iron Man suit instead. Tony wasn’t sure what they were doing, only that it looked complicated. Jarvis obviously had this planned for some time. 

He almost forgot his situation, because he was too intrigued by the mechanical work. What the hell was his AI doing? 

The answer presented itself when the suit started to move by itself. It raised its head in a predatory way, straightened its broad shoulders and stepped off the platform. Tony looked at it with wide eyes. The bots shied away to give it room and the armor walked towards him with determined steps. He had designed it to look intimidating, which had totally worked. It was a massive shape of sleek, deadly metal and now it almost seemed alive. 

So, Jarvis had hijacked himself a body. Tony couldn’t quite decide if he should be proud or scared shitless. He decided on option number two when a pair of strong hands took him by the hips. Before he wholly knew what happened, they lifted him up and placed him none too gently on the trunk hood. The long, slanting rear of the Bugatti proved to be perfect for stretching someone out over it. 

Tony tried not to flail around in panic. The cool metal of the car pressed against his skin. Jarvis wasn’t satisfied with his position, though. After some consideration the armor grapped his hips again, shoved him further up and bend him over the backrest. Tony’s bottom went high into the air and his head down towards the upholstery. 

Tony squaked in surprise when he was doubled over. Hastily he braced himself on the leather bench. 

He felt his legs being parted, exposing him further. They were stretched open until it started to feel slightly uncomfortable, then Jarvis tied them down in that spreadeagled position. His AI proved to be meticulous as ever. Tony was fairly sure that ‘being bound to the bed’ normally meant two small strips around the ankles. Instead he felt several layers of fabric being wrapped around his upper legs. The stuff felt a bit like smooth compression bandages and soon covered him from knees to tighs, reaching almost – but not wholly – up to his bottom. As the finishing touch the straps were pulled tight and attached to the car, thus keeping Tony firmly in position. 

He wriggled around, testing his boundaries. The bondage felt peculiar, because most of his body was free to twist any way it wanted, only his ass was pinned irremovably into place. The bindings even gave Tony leverage to lift his upper body in a gym move and look over his shoulder. He blinked when he saw what Jarvis had used as bondage material. “Are those … safty belts?”, he asked incredously. 

“It seemed appropriate under the circumstances”, his butler said. 

The voice didn’t come out of the wall speakers as usual. Jarvis talked through the armor’s mouth. The burning eye slits looked at him.

“This is really creepy, you know”, Tony complained. “Like Frankenstein gone hightech. You aren’t going to hold crazy monologues about loving my virgin soul and then rip people’s heads off, are you?” 

“Not very likely”, Jarvis said, sounding amused. Tony thought peevishly that his butler enjoyed the situation too damn much. 

The armor walked around the car and started to pull cables, wires and other bits out of the destroyed engine compartment. Tony watched for a short while, craning his neck, until the position got just too uncomfortable. It put unfortunate pressure on his dangly bits. He let himself go limp again, hanging over the backrest. His cock throbbed. Tony wasn’t sure if Jarvis had placed him this way intentionally, but his most sensitives parts lay slightly crumpled and squashed between his hips and the metal of the hood. He wondered if he could dare to move a hand down and adjust himself. After debating this for a while he left everything where it was. He really didn’t want to call attention to that part of his anatomy. 

The suit came marching back and started to put pieces of car onto the backseat. Soon there was a variety of interesting implements resting on the bench under Tony’s nose. He stared at them and wondered with trepidation how they would be applied. Some of them were fairly obvious. Like the radio antenna that looked like a thin metal rod. Or the bunch of knotted electrical cables that had an uncanny resemblance to a cat ‘o nine. His raised bottom twitched. 

“I think I recognize a theme here”, Tony quipped weakly, looking at the parts of the wreckage he had created. “Perhaps I would prefer my paddle after all.”

“Without a doubt, Sir. But I think the punishment should fit the crime. It’s certainly more educational that way.”

The collection looked like one of Tony’s science experiments. Different materials laid out as a test series to determine which of them would produce the best result. Jarvis was going at this with the mind set of an engineer. Tony wasn’t sure if he was more terrified of the phase of evaluation or the following part … because after the perfect tool had been found, it was surly going to be applied at lenght. “I’m a quick learner”, he said a little desperately. “If you want to go for educational, I’ll get the message just fine with only half of thoses torture thingies.” 

“That may be so. On the other hand, I’m sure that you understood me very well last time. The lesson didn’t seem to stick for long, though.”

“Yeah, well …”, Tony mumbled. Jarvis did have a point there. The experience had faded quickly, buried under his day-to-day life and ingrained behavior patterns. He’d changed a few things – his involvement with the Avengers was proof of that – but basically, he’d gone back to being the same arrogant SOB he’d always been. Riding high on drugs and sex and rock’n roll had made it easy to shove the unwelcome memories aside. 

Now everything was suddenly back bright and clear. It was a bit like total recall, all of the fifty strokes blazing across his mind in agonizing detail. How anyone could be stupid enough to risk that ordeal a second time was beyond him. 

No wonder Jarvis sounded exasperated when he said: “I’ve decided on a different approach this time to fit your personality pattern. Perhaps a punishment that resembles a roller coaster ride will be less forgettable to you. Meaning you’ll get a variation of input and all the adrenaline you could wish for.” 

With this explanation the many instruments on the bench made a horrible kind of psychological sense. There was a full dozen of them … promising input and adrenaline. Yay.

The AI let his surrogate body stalk to the front of the Bugatti, where it started rummaging under the driver seat. Tony pushed himself up a bit so he could peek over the coachwork of the cabriolet. He had to strain his back for that, holding himself in a wheelbarrow position that bunched up his bum and made him very aware of his wide open legs. But to have no idea what was happening was even worse. “So let me guess”, he tried for his usual snark, “you want me to choose between all those fun options. Which one do I pick first to deflower my lily white ass? Let me think.”

“Not at all, Sir. I’m not interested in your preferances. You’ll just lie there and take it”, his butler said. 

The armor straightened and ripped a piece of fabric into a handy shape. The powerful arms moved in a show of tightly controlled violence. Tony flinched. 

“We’ll start with a little warming up”, explained the machine formerly known a his superhero armor. It moved behind Tony’s upsticking bum and slapped a sqare of something rough and scratchy onto his left cheek. 

Tony tried to identify the stuff but came up with nothing. It seemed to have tiny bristles … which was comfirmed when the armor began to rub the fabric around in circles. At that point they became very noticeable indeed. Tony’s buttock moved up and down under the ministrations. The skin tingled and heated up. It felt like a rough kind of massage and wasn’t totally unpleasant. Not yet, at least. The spots that Jarvis brushed over four or five times in a row definitely weren’t happy. The feeling spread, forming bigger patches of irritated skin. After a dozen more rounds Tony’s whole buttock felt like he was sitting in a batch of stinging nettle.

Jarvis showed no sign of stopping and Tony let himself flop down again to preserve his energy. “What exactly _is_ that?”, he asked, hanging over the backrest like a wet towel, his tail in the air.

“Mrs Denocelli wanted her wedding present to be as realistically vintage as possible, so the car’s footmat is made out of sisal hemp”, Jarvis explained. 

The bristles concentrated on his sit spot and Tony squirmed. “You’re punishing me with a footmat?”, he repeated disbelieving.

“It seems to work splendidly”, his butler said.

Which was all too true. The carpet circled over the offered globe of flesh leisurly and without a discernible pattern, but with a lot of force. The heat in Tony’s backside grew steadily and made his eyes water. When it had reached about a hundred degrees (celsius), Jarvis changed his method to something even more efficient. He took the throbbing cheek firmly in one palm of the suit’s metal hand, pushing it up so it couldn’t move. Then he worked over it systematically, picking up speed all the while. Soon the robot hand was a blur, concentrating on its target with inhuman energy. Tony dug his fingers into the upholstery and clenched his teeth. If he opened his mouth now something totally humiliating would slip out. Like begging to have his other buttock punished, pleeease. Just for a change.

He seemed to get his wish fulfilled when the hand lifted away for a moment. It didn’t settle on his right cheek, though. Instead, the armored fingers moved to the exact middle of his backside. One tip stroked encourigingly along the cleft, which had clenched shut in pain. It was clear that Jarvis wanted him to open up. 

“Must I?”, Tony asked plaintivly. 

“Of course not, Sir. I’m your AI. You can order me to stop any time”, Jarvis said. “If that’s what you really wish.”

“Oh, damn”, Tony murmered. Did Jarvis have to remind him of that loophole? Being disciplined like a spoiled brat was bad enough. He didn’t want to actually agree to it. “That’s plain mean. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a sadistical son of a junk heap?” 

The finger tapped a little rhythm on his tightly shut crack. “Shall I take that answer for consent?”, Jarvis asked unimpressed. He was going to be persistent, of course. 

“Yes, fine, bloody hell”, Tony pressed out between his teeth. 

If his AI thought he needed this, he was probably right. 

Being taken to task for his behaviour was new and unpleasant, but in a twisted way it made him feel safe. Jarvis wouldn’t let him self-destruct … or crush people under his thousand dollar heels. It was reassuring that his AI didn’t let him get away with shit. Even if that meant lying here with his rump in the air. 

Tony had always done what he pleased, which mostly involved blowing things up and being an asshole. He certainly hadn’t spared a thought about the feelings of others. People were ants and morals were overrated. At least that was what his de-facto father, Obadiah Stone had taught him. Being a self-serving prick and war profiteer had suited Tony just fine. And then his uncle’s life philosophy had turned around and bit him where it hurt. ‘Might makes right’ was fun when you were on the top, but not so much on the receiving end. Tony had learned that in a way that still gave him nightmares. 

Turning over a new leaf was more difficult than he’d expected, though. To his chagrin he had almost no idea how ethics and people skills actually worked. A handbook would have been nice. Preferably with illustrations. 

But being the splendid engineer that he was, he’d found a scientific solution to that little problem. He’d build himself a moral compass. 

Well, he hadn’t planned to give Jarvis that job. But it worked, which was the important bit. Now Tony’s prosthetic conscience could keep him on the straight and narrow until he developed some scruples of his own. A perfect solution. 

Apart from the fact that penance hurt like a bitch. Every damn time. 

Which brought him back to the situation at hand. Jarvis still waited for him to resign himself and take his medicine. His left buttock twitched. 

The heat that radiated from that part of his anatomy had lessened somewhat while he stalled. Now it felt only like a very intense sunburn. Tony had a private beach in Malibu, so he knew what he was talking about. The skin would be crimson, a little blistered and overly sensitive to any kind of touch. Which made it perfect for a flogging that he wouldn’t ever forget. There was probably a special BDSM-term for that: stretch a guy out on the sand bare-bummed and let the target area roast for a few midday hours, then start spanking. 

In comparison to his complaining left cheek the right side seemed unnaturally cool. The feeling of his half-punished rear was kind of unsettling. It fairly demanded for the rest to be taken care off. With a heartfelt sigh Tony gave in. He relaxed and his backside arched up in surrender. 

“Thank you, Sir”, Jarvis said and patted him briefly on the bum like an obedient dog. Then the metal finger tips pulled his vulnerable cleft open and the bristles delved in.

Jarvis started rubbing vigorously. There was no slow build-up this time, it was more of an overwhelming assault. The carpet thing scrubbed its way along both sides of Tony’s crack and paid special attention to the puckered flesh around his anus, inflaming it with enthusiasm. The procedure felt distubingly intimate. Letting Jarvis do this was as humbling as it could get. Tony buried his face in his arms and tried not to make a sound. It took a while until his butler was pleased with the result and moved on to the rest of his behind. He placed one metal hand on the small of Tony’s back to pin him firmly in place and went at it full speed. The rapid up and down movement crushed his poor cock against the hood until it complained as loudly as his jiggeling cheeks. Tony could only grip the limousine’s armrest and hold on for dear life. 

When the ordeal ended abruptly, Tony felt wrung out before the real punishment had even begun. His whole bottom was exquisitly tender. He _so_ didn’t want to be spanked on top of that. 

“This was, and I quote, ‘a little warming up’?”, he rasped.

“I may have gone somewhat overboard there”, Jarvis said innocently. “But I was having all this _fun_. You know how hard it is to stop when one is having a real riot. The temptation was just too much for me. Perhaps I should work on my impulse control.”

“Ha ha”, Tony said. 

“Really, I just love it when something blows my mind. My common sense told me to dial it down but I simply couldn’t help myself.” 

“Yes, okay, I get it. You can shut up now.”

“Of course, Sir”, his butler said. “After all, I have a dozen better ways to express my opinion of your antics.”

Tony groaned. He looked at the strange collection of spare parts on the bench and his mouth went dry. 

“I will administer each twice. To give you a taste", Jarvis said. "Then we will see if more is needed.”

The prospect was as terrifying as Jarvis could possibly wish for. Panic threatened to swallow him whole, now that the dreaded moment had actually come. Tony tried to talk himself down from it. Okay, that added up to twentyfour. He’d had worse. He could do that. Really, Jarvis was being more lenient than he had hoped for. 

But his confidence fell to shreds immediately when the armor bent down towards the bench and chose the worst of the whole bunch, namely the v-belt. 

In the back of his mind he’d hoped they wouldn’t come to that. Miraculously skip over it or something. 

The black strap looked fearsome. It had a pattern of ridges. It had been designed for optimum friction. Tony hoped to god that the thing was as old-fashioned as the rest of the car, which meant it didn’t have steel fibers embedded. Did Jarvis have to start with that of all possible options?

Well, yes. What else had he expected. His butler wanted to take him down, and he was extremely good at that. Of course he wouldn’t leave the culprit any kind of self control to cling to.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, braced himself and prepared to pay the piper. By now he had practice, after all. He had a hunch that he was going to need it in spades.


	2. Chapter 2

_Imagine the glittering city of New York that stretches out to the horizon. Zoom in on the skyscraper that dominates all others, a monument to the legendary ego of its builder. If you delve through the facades into the top floors you will be enveloped by the high-tech luxury life of Tony Stark – billionaire, superhero, ex-merchant of death._

_In comparison, your own existence may seem dull and mediocre. Who wouldn’t want to be Iron Man for just one day? But you should probably pick another time to try out that fantasy. Because Tony Stark is currently having a very bad night._

\---------------

The complex machine called Jarvis had been designed to be the epitome of a british butler, which to Tony’s chagrin included old-fashioned values and some clear views on discipline. After several years in the Stark household the AI also had a truly warped sense of humour. This probably explained why he had browsed Tony’s collection of Hollywood classics to search for a fitting punishment. Tony now had a blazing whipstroke across his back that looked, of all things, like the Sign of Zorro. 

He bowed his head and tried to get his breath back. His arms shook with the effort to hold himself in position in spite of the flaming agony. Jarvis had politely asked him to push himself up from the bench to give the motor belt an easier target. The pain throbbed across his shoulders and down towards his hips where the Z ended in a flourish just above his bottom. 

Tony had always liked the Z-bit in the movies. It had a grandiose style that appealed to him. He loved the macho part about the Masked Avenger punishing the rich and unscrupulous, but then it hadn’t been _him_ on the business end of the whip. Talk about role reversal. He was undoubtedly not the hero in this case. 

The armor drew one finger leisurely along the welt on his back, highlighting the shape. “I’m sure you got the referance, Sir”, it said.

Tony nodded silently. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the red leather of the seats. 

“Then you may offer a guess why I chose this form of discipline.”

Tony groaned inside. Jarvis wanted him to say it out loud? He had a clear idea why his butler went all Mexican on him, but his jaw just clenched up at the idea of confession. Really, it was bad enough to keep himself in position for the next stroke. His whole body trembled with the strain of holding his smarting back up for another round. Wasn’t that enough as a show of submission? Jarvis was being unreasonable.

The seconds ticked by and he couldn’t force the words out, even if he knew he wouldn’t have a choice in the end. Jarvis gave him a warning swat on the rear. His bum still glowed a healthy red, so ouch. “I want you to tell me why you are being punished”, his AI repeated. 

“Because I got caught?”, Tony snapped before he could stop himself. He winced. 

There was an ominious pause. His AI seemed to ponder how to react to that bit of impertinence.

Being a smartass was clearly not a good choice in this situation. But holy hell, he really didn’t want to start listing his missteps for Jarvis. His butler would listen patiently to each of them and then correct them one by one. The thought alone made him cringe. 

The silence stretched out and got more nerve wracking by the second.

“Uh, can I take that answer back?”, Tony asked.

“No, don’t bother, Sir. It will do nicely. In fact _’I’m only sorry I got caught’_ contains all of your attitude in a nutshell. I can’t quite fathom why I expected any different.” 

Tony swallowed. Jarvis hadn’t sounded angry but … disappointed. “You know that’s not true, right?”, he said. “I was just being crabby.” 

He cast a glance towards where the armor stood. It studied him with an air of cool disregard and refused to react. Tony started to squirm under the disapproving silence. 

“Come on, I get mouthy when I’m up against the wall. Kind of famous for it, really. My brain disconnects and I start throwing bullshit. You’ve ignored that often enough, so … Okay, I’m really sorry about that Mexican girl.”

Jarvis made a polite noise that urged Tony to go on. 

“And would you please stop the silent treatment?”

“Well, it’s you who started it, Sir.” Now his AI sounded amused. 

Tony relaxed despite himself. So, they were still buddies. All that was required to make up for his flippancy and gain forgiveness was some simple soulbaring honesty. Not exactly his forte, but he was going to try. Tony shut his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Okay, here’s reason number one why I’m being thrashed by my AI.” His voice came out hoarse. “And why I thoroughly deserve it. I almost ran somebody over with my fucking stolen car. If that girl hadn’t thrown herself out of the way she would be dead now. And I was so far gone that I didn’t even notice.” He bowed his head and felt the distinctive shape of the whipstroke burn across his back. The next words seemed impossibly hard. “At least I hope that I didn’t notice. I mean about the danger I put her in. Because it’s totally possible that I just didn’t care enough about some … pollo chick to stop speeding and make sure she was okay.” 

“Thank you for that answer, Sir”, Jarvis said. The armor took a measured step back.

Tony dug his fingernails into the upholstery and braced himself. A moment later the belt thudded down across his shoulderblades and took his breath away. A line of fire cut into his skin, flaying him open with the precision of a rapier blade. 

Jarvis handled the suit with impressive control, and he’d made the whip land exactly where it was supposed to go. The stripe ran parallel to the first one, and the inch of unpunished skin between the two strokes flamed up in sympathy, leaving a broad stripe of z-formed agony on Tony’s back. He made a broken noise deep in his throat. His arms gave in and he curled into the leather bench as far as his constraints allowed. The mark felt branded onto his body as if it would stay there forever, punishing him for the callous disregard of other people’s lifes.

“That was by far the worst, Sir”, Jarvis said. He laid a soothing hand on Tony’s head and combed through his hair. “I promise. The rest will be painful as well, but bearable in comparison.”

“Jesus, your bedside manner needs work”, Tony croaked. “Was that supposed to be reassuring?” 

Jarvis simply kept caressing him while Tony hung over the backrest and shook all over from the aftershock. It would have been easy to cry but Tony’s pride didn’t allow that. Still, the hand in his hair felt strangly nice. 

He didn’t have a lot of experience with being comforted. Nobody in his life had been the type to coddle him. Now fingertips drew careful circles on his scalp, and Tony surprised himself by how much he appreciated the sense of being cared for. Jarvis calmed him down with sure touches and his movements were incredibly patient. There was no sense of hurry or expectation, as if he would be happy to pet Tony for the rest of their lifes.

It was totally different from the bedroom encounters that Tony excelled in and that always were a form of competition. The touch was tender enough to forget that the fingers stroking through his hair were actually not human. In fact, the experience was so utterly amazing that it almost made up for the bloody screaming mess his back muscles felt like. Slowly, Tony’s breathing evened out and all of his body went pliant and limp. 

“Are you ready to go on, Sir?” 

Jarvis didn’t take his hand away, even while he proposed an end to Tony’s short respite. He had that ‘gentle but strict’-thing down pat.

Tony sighed. “There’s no chance we can just stop here, right?”

“I’m truly sorry, Sir, but no. If I let you off easy now, we’ll just have to repeat the whole process in the near future. Because you’re surely going to find a way to test my limits even further. And we don’t want that, do we?” 

“No”, Tony agreed, “we really, really don’t.” God alone knew what his butler would come up with next, if Tony managed to earn himself a third session in the workshop. It didn’t bear thinking about. 

“Very well, then I would like you to tell me another reason why you are being disciplined, Sir.”

Tony resigned himself to the inevitable and thought about it for a moment. He was going for honesty, even if all his instincts voted for an easier way out. Jarvis would see through his smoke screens anyway, because he was bloody omniscient that way. “Well, I acted like an insensitive jerk and destroyed a wedding. Those two people were hoping for the happiest day of their lives, and then I dropped in and turned it all into a mortifying chaos. Uh, does that sound mushy? Because I think I’m channelling Pepper here. Anyway, I do regret the mess I left them in and how the media had a field day with their busted celebration.” Tony lifted his head and gave the the suit one of his wide-eyed earnest looks that made people fall for him in spite of his general personality. “You think I should apologize? Like, go back there and say sorry?” 

“Actually I think they don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Oh. Yeah. I get that.” Tony told himself this was good news. No reason to feel deflated because Jarvis shot his attempt at reparations down. He could imagine himself begging pardon on the newlyweds’ doorstep while his still-sore butt squirmed under his designer clothes. The mental image was totally apalling. So, good riddance. 

Besides, he had greater worries. The amored hand moved towards the implements on the bench now. Tony watched it hover over the choices and his mind focused on that, blanking out everyhing else. 

The metal fingers delicately picked up two rose stems. They belonged to the wedding bouquet that had been fastened to the hood until it had been thoroughly de-flowered by Tony’s speeding and the following accident. Only the bare stalks were left and presented a sorry sight. But the broad thorns were perfectly intact and looked ready to be put to good use. 

Jarvis wasn’t actually going to cane him with that? A frisson of fear ran all the way down to his vulnerable bum. Suddenly he was very aware of his position again, his spread legs and the reddened globes that peeked up invitingly. The area above the security belts started to tingle all over and the sunburned feeling reminded him of how overly sensitive Jarvis’ careful preparation had left him.

His butler seemed to pluck the thoughts right out of his mind and let out an exasperated sigh. “Could you please have some faith in me, Sir? This is supposed to be a lesson, not the Spanish Inquisition. I may be angry with you, but I assure you that I won’t aim for any lasting damage.” 

“Sorry”, Tony said. “Faith was never my strong suit.”

Despite the reassurance his whole bottom flinched when the cool stalks touched it. Which was indeed a bit ridiculous, because his AI did nothing but place the rose stems on top of his rump and leave them lying there. This gave Tony the unwelcome chance to concentrate on the feeling. The rods were long enough to reach across both buttocks and lay balanced on the highest points, bridging the gap in the middle. The thorns could be guessed at, prickling lightly, but were more of a promise than a real bother so far. 

After a minute the armor placed both of its hands on Tony’s cheeks, covering most of them. The weight of the metal gauntlets was enough to push the stems downwards. The thorns sank into his flesh slowly and made him hiss. Jarvis just left his palms there for a while. The gesture would have looked like a caress if one didn’t know about the sharp spikes underneath. Big hands cupped his roundings possessivly, and the feeling left very little doubt about who was in charge. 

Then the metal palms started to move, rolling the stems upwards across his buttocks in a snail’s pace. Thankfully Jarvis used a softer touch for this and only made the thorns pierce the surface skin. Tiny puncture wounds started spotting Tony’s cheeks, which blushed to a nice rosy colour under the treatment. It looked downright flowery. Small drops of blood decorated his quivering behind like petal patterns.

When Jarvis reached the upper end he stopped short before the whipmark. He took the thornstalks up and layed them gently across his vulnerable thighs instead. The nether half of Tony’s bottom was still untouched, smooth and almost white in comparison to the parts above. This was soon corrected as the rosewood started its leisurly trip towards his undercurves. The stems rolled and tumbled around one another on their way up and proved flexible enough to shape themselves to the roundings they were climbing. The thorns kissed the creamy skin and left scarlet drops in their wake. 

Tony’s toes curled and his upturned soles clenched, expressing everything that his pinned-down behind couldn’t. Soon his feet scrabbled around in a desperate way that must have been gratifying to see. All the while, the stems kept moving with excrutiating slowness, aiming towards the highest point where the process had originally begun. 

Tony could only hope that his butler wouldn’t start from the beginning and create a second layer. His whole backside felt like a tattoo machine had gone havoc on it. Surly, the promise to give him ’two of each’ was covered already? There were two of the frigging flower things after all. 

Jarvis seemed to have similar thoughts, because at the peak of his target he paused for a moment and contemplated his options. Tony held his breath and send a prayer to the patron saint of wayward billionairs. Finally, Jarvis lifted the stems away and put one of them to the side as a compromise. The bigger one he kept for further use. 

The armor leaned over with a content little hum and placed the branch along the length of Tony’s cleft, so that it lay nestled between the cheeks. Both gauntlets came to rest on Tony’s tender buttocks and softly pulled them apart. The branch drifted down, administering light stings to the exposed skin right and left, until it was all the way in. Satisfied, Jarvis released his grip and Tony’s cheeks closed over the intruder. 

“We’ll leave it there for a while”, Jarvis decided. “Try to stay relaxed.”

“Yeah, I needed that advice”, Tony murmered. One of the thorns nudged gently against his opening. He was very determined not to make it worse by clenching.

“You can think of _this_ as your apology to the Denocelli’s”, his butler suggested. “Just imagine how delighted they would be if they could see you now, Sir.”

Tony grimaced. No doubt he presented a very satisfying picture. And after his flashy one-man show at the wedding, who wouldn’t love this view of a submissive Tony Stark? The thought made him acutely aware of his upturned position and the pain that radiated from his shoulders to his ass. The rose thorns were a threatening presence and forced him to keep lying there all docile and still. He wasn’t used to staying motionless for any length of time, but the spiny branch made sure he had no choice. Tony surrendered himself to the inevitable, sent a silent apology to the two lovebirds and waited. He couldn’t fight whatever Jarvis intended and he really shouldn’t. 

“Let me tell you why else you’re stretched out on that hood”, Jarvis said eventually and took up a plastic can full of liquid. The stuff looked harmless, like simple tap water, but probably wasn’t. “We had an agreement about your alcohol consumption, which you broke. I warned you what would happen in that case.” The suit stalked around Tony and positioned itself at his side. “Let me give you a demonstration.”

Without further ado he poured the can over Tony’s upturned behind. For a short moment the cool liquid felt soothing on his overheated skin. Then the stuff got into the puncture wounds that spotted the area like red freckles. Tony’s eyes grew wide and he let out a high-pitched yowl. His ass spasmed wildly. His cleft went into a frenzy. It kneaded the rose stalk with abandon and the thorns went all over the place. 

The armor looked at him with an air of satisfaction. “That was 90 % methyl alcohol. Enriched with a salt solution. Also known as antifreeze. I think I made my point clear”, Jarvis remarked. 

“Crystal”, Tony gasped. “There goes my drinking habit.”

His butler studied him and relented a bit. “I’m ready to make exceptions. If you absolutely need to numb your mind for some reason, you will tell me about it. In those cases I’ll let you get high as a kite, as the phrase goes.”

“Thanks”, Tony said. “Could you please take that flower out of my ass now?” 

“But of course, Sir.“ Jarvis leaned over, stuck his fingers into private places and carefully loosened the thorns that had settled all too firmly in Tony’s skin. “What misbehaviour should we address next, do you think?”

Tony contemplated this, while his butler scrabbled around and made him twitch. It wasn’t difficult to come up with a whole bunch of spank-worthy delicts. He had managed to rack up a record number in that one night. The question was which to pick, because his answer would decide what implement landed on his hindquarters next. Jarvis seemed to really get into the idea that the punishment should fit the crime. 

Tony yearned to aim for something that seemed relatively harmless, like two swats with the windshield wiper, but he didn’t quite dare. If he tried to spare himself, that would probably backfire spectacularly and make his situation so much worse. His AI didn’t take kindly to being manipulated. So Tony tried to shut his brain down and say the first thing that popped into his mind.

“I’m being punished for hot-wiring that Bugatti. It’s against the law and all”, came out of his mouth.

“Ah. Yes, indeed. Stealing is wrong”, Jarvis said in a tone that suggested raised eyebrows. “I’m glad that you have progressed far enough to recognize that, Sir.” The AI studied the car parts available and decided on a huge piece of number plate that looked like an excellent paddle. “Did you know that the effect of a spanking is enhanced when the target area is wet? It’s a side effect of adhesion.”

“Fascinating”, Tony said weakly.

The scientific theory proved quite correct. When Jarvis gave his upraised bottom a healthy swat Tony couldn’t hold back a howl of surprise. The paddle targeted the bouncy underside of his curves and landed there with an earsplitting smack. Without conscious thought Tony flung his hands back and covered the area protectivly. He felt his buttocks dance under his palms, the well-developed muscles twitching in a severe case of needles and pins. The sting didn’t lessen either, but lasted on and on as if a swarm of angry bees had homed in on his ass and settled down for target practice. 

Jarvis cleared his non-existent throat. 

“Uh, sorry”, Tony wheezed and pulled his hands away with great reluctance. His bum fluttered pitifully as he offered it up again. All his blood had rushed into the area and Tony’s tail end glowed brightly enough to resemble a red traffic light. 

His butler didn’t comment, just raised the paddle high. The thin film of liquid had dissipated under Tony’s hands, but Jarvis made up for that in his own way. Tony could hear a whistling sound, then the number plate came down again. It was precisely aimed as only a machine could manage and landed on exactly the same spot as before.

The blow was forceful enough to shove his whole bottom up and print the letters NEW YO and the statue of liberty across the cheeks. Tony’s tenderized bum turned numb for a second and then went up in flames like a nitrogen explosion. 

“Shit!”, Tony yelled. 

“That was lick number two”, Jarvis said unnecessarily. “I’m sure you would like to add to that. If you would please pick a theme?”

Tony’s newly branded behind squirmed at the mere thought. The poor thing frantically pointed out that it had had enough. However, it could only wriggle on top of the car seat and look pitiful. 

For a moment Tony was temped to try stalling. He tried to come up with something to say that would buy him time, but Jarvis could read his body language so effortlessly by now that he cut the attempt off at the roots. 

“Let me help you out. Your next sentence should start with ’I’m being punished because …”, he prompted. 

Tony’s shoulders sacked. “Sure. I know that.” He went through his spotty memories of the evening and winced at the many high points that kind of screamed for a well-tanned hide. At last he settled for: “I’m being punished because … okay, because I behaved like a brat and made a game out of insulting people in creative ways … ah, I think I told some grandmotherly type in a skimpy dress not to shove her boobs into my face because I was allergic to prunes.”

“Indeed. That would have been the president of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. You actually made her cry.” 

Tony squirmed on his raised pedestal. “Should I ask how you know that?” 

“After the lady recovered she threatened with a lawsuit. Miss Potts spent some considerable time this morning appeasing her and showing sympathy. The rest of the day she went right on apologizing for you, because there’s a whole queue of VIP’s who you managed to antagonize within a single sentence. You have a nasty talent that way, Sir.”

“Yeah, true. One of my charms. How mad is Pepper?”

“Well, she requested that I alert her when we come to this point. So you can ask her yourself. – Miss Potts, I think you would want to activate your video feed now.” 

Tony blushed all over, from his toes to the roots of his hair. Okay, so Jarvis had decided that the punishment for acting like a bully was complete, bone-deep humiliation. He wanted to dig himself a hole in the car’s coachwork and was incredibly aware of his reddened globes that mooned the ceiling camera.

Somehow he’d just known Jarvis would involve his ex in this. Pepper had always been superb at giving him a miserable time when he pissed her off too much. He kind of liked that about her, normally. But at the moment he could have done without her sweet voice that rang over the speakers. 

“Oh my, that’s quite an eyecatcher, Jarvis. I truly love your style of interior design.”

Tony pressed his burning face into the leather.

“The workshop looked kind of … naked without that piece of decoration”, his CEO added, not bothering to acknowledge her boss in any other way. 

“Hello, Pepper”, Tony said sheepishly. 

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Potts”, Jarvis answered. “It’s always a pleasure to converse with someone polite for a change.” 

Really, that dig was downright clumsy. Sometimes his butler had no subtility at all.

“But I’m sure your time is limited and I wouldn’t want to waste it with frivolous shenanigans like some people”, Jarvis went on. “So, let’s start the performance, shall we?”

“Please, do. I’ve had a trying day and could use some entertainment. Would you please make it last the nineteen minutes that I could fit into my schedule?”, Pepper said pleasantly. 

Tony swallowed. Yeah, his ex was howling mad at him. 

And he was so going to regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the length of this PWP is getting slightly out of hand. I planned a short, one chapter story and now there's over 10.000 words and I'm still writing. Making Tony sweat is just so much fun. Thanks for all the kudos!!  
> P.S.: A reader pointed out that some practices described in my stories could be dangerous and too painful in real life. That’s probably true. This is unashamed kink and pure fantasy. I have no actual experience with BDSM, just an overactive imagination. So, don’t try this at home.


	3. Chapter 3

The suit leaned over him and a nervous shiver ran along Tony’s backside. His hips shifted in tiny unconscious movements, which was all that his pinned-down state allowed. He could have sworn that he heard his bum sizzle with every cool draft that touched the red hot globes. The prospect of a healthy nineteen minutes-spanking made him swallow, but his AI would probably come up with something more inventive anyway. 

Like the limousine’s first aid kit, of all things.

“There might by a medical reason for Mr Stark’s behavior”, Jarvis suggested with fake concern and clicked the box open. 

“Oh?”, Pepper prompted.

“Excessive risk taking, an overdeveloped ego and the urge to be an insulting nuisance … this is often diagnosed as a condition created by an overload of tostesterone. A hormonal imbalance mostly found in male teenagers. So the root of the problem seems to lie down here.” He gently pulled Tony’s balls from their uncomfortable but safe position against the trunk hood. 

Tony groaned when they were lifted and positioned on a cold metal hand for better display. He could feel them shrink pitifully at the contact. 

“Really?”, Pepper remarked innocently. “Such a tiny cause for such a big effect? That’s astounding, Doctor.”

His AI picked up on the ‘doctor’ hint, of course, due to his hyperspeed brain and the amount of kink he’d witnessed over the years as Tony’s butler. As it turned out, he was both capable and willing to take part in a bit of role-play. 

“Size isn’t everything, nurse Potts”, he intoned, sounding disturbingly like Dick Van Dyke in that corny tv show. “And our patient’s small proportions won’t hinder the treatment. Modern medicine has learnt to work even on such a microscopic scale.” He nudged the testicles on his palm with a finger tip. 

Tony facepalmed. Could those two just stop dissing his manhood? He couldn’t quite believe that his CEO and his mechanical butler were doing doctor games at his expense. 

He squirmed beneath the poking finger, and Jarvis gave his dangly bits a flick that made him wince. The wall speakers transmitted Pepper’s sigh of satisfaction with dolby surround quality. He could just imagine the picture his assets presented in contrast to the nicely crimson ass and thighs that surrounded them.

“I’m sure you will be fascinated by the therapy that I have developed”, Jarvis continued his m.d. routine. “Perhaps you would like to watch the proceedings more closely, nurse Potts? I could give you access to the visual interfaces of my … hazmat suit. That way, you can zoom in whenever you like, while I work on our patient.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Doctor.” 

Great. He was so glad he’d built that futuristic visor with ultrahigh resolution. Now his CEO could get an eyeful while Jarvis was getting kinky on his nether parts. 

Jarvis started the mystery treatment by cutting a long stripe out of the car’s upholstery. He used the emergency scissors from the kit to work on the red leather. The resulting thin cord was pushed into the bottle of desinfectant and left there for a while to get soaked all the way through. To fill the time – wouldn’t want anyone to get bored, right? – Jarvis took a pair of tweezers out of the box and twirled them around thoughtfully. 

Tony followed every movement with nervous fascination. His bits felt incredibly vulnerable between his wide open legs and his uptilted rear exposed them to perfection. Jarvis would have more than enough room to work on them any way he wanted. 

The tweezers picked a few of the soft hairs, got a good grip and lifted his package up to dangle in the air like a lab specimen. The pull made Tony’s eyes water. 

“To seize the problem at its roots – quite literally – I have the perfect material at hand”, Jarvis intoned with his Dick van Dyke voice. He poured the dripping leather cord out of the bottle and started wrapping it around Tony’s balls that trembled at the cool touch. “Leather has a remarkable quality which will be very helpful in this case: It expands when it’s made wet and contracts again while it is drying.” 

He fastened the impromptu harness around the base of Tony’s scrotum, humming a happy little tune as if this could become his favorite hobby. Tony had a very good idea what awaited him when the stuff started shrinking.

Jarvis was still loitering around down there. He parted the testicals and coiled the purple ribbon lovingly around the middle to make them stand out round and firm. Tony got the sinking feeling that this was just preparations for the main act. His nuts presented two distinctive targets now, and there had been that ominous promise to give him ‘two of each’, which Jarvis had fulfilled with every device along the line. 

At last his butler seemed satisfied with his work and gave the cord a testing pull to made sure that everything sat snug and tight. To add insult to injury he tied it off with a bow and moved the package around so Pepper could admire it from all angles. Tony’s soon to be punished nuts looked like a valentine’s day present. 

“The leather will need more than your coffee break to dry, I’m afraid”, Jarvis explained to his guest of honor, slipping out of the doctor persona. “But the effect should be quite noticeable soon. Mr Stark will of course stay bound this way until the process is fully completed. – Well, I think there’s another twelve minutes to fill.” 

His fingers tapped a thoughtful ryhtm on Tony’s testicles as if he couldn’t decide what fun thing to do with them next. Choices, choices … 

The emergency kit included a roll of duct tape. Its label advertised that it had an extra strong grip on every thinkable surface. When the armor picked it up and ripped off two long stripes, Tony’s mouth went dry. He had enough experience with band-aids on hairy parts to guess what his butler had in mind. His balls seemed to pick up on the idea as well, because they developed a life of their own and desperately tried to climb into safety. 

Pepper made a noise deep in her throat that Tony had always found sexy in bed. To his embarrassment he found it sexy even now. The way his bits curled up in fear in spite of the constricting cord must have been nicely visible in his spreadeagled position. 

The armor wrapped an adhesive stripe around each testicle, until every part of the soft skin was covered. The leather harness had left that target area free, even pushing the balls out a bit to make them more easily available. Jarvis rolled them in its hands as if kneading cookie dough. A few squeezes made the tape cling firmly to all the proper places. When it sat perfectly, Jarvis took one end of the tape between his fingertips. He tugged at it to get a better grip, and Tony felt his left-side ball being lifted up into the air. It swung and jerked with the movements of the adhesive strip that enclosed it. 

There was a short pause to build anticipation. Tony suppressed a girly whimper. Then his testicle was janked down in a sharp pull and his butler ripped the wrapping off in a single, spiral movement. The impromptu shave made Tony yowl in an unusually high octave. It felt like being debristled with a blowtorch. The other testicle, that was still waiting for the same treatment, tried to shrink to non-existence. 

“Nice”, Pepper commented. “I officially delegate all Tony-sitting duties to you, Jarvis. At least there’s one person who knows how to handle him.”

“He is a right handfull sometimes”, Jarvis agreed, which was the literal truth at the moment, as he still had Tony by the balls. Pepper snorted. “But he usually makes up for it in charming ways. Do you wish him to apologize now?”

Tony hadn’t gotten all of his breath back. But he hastened to answer before he was prompted. “I’m really sorry I insulted all those people and made extra work for you”, he said quickly. “You’re the best CEO ever.”

Pepper laughed. “Thanks, Tony”, she said. “That’s really nice of you.” Then she went right on talking to his AI. “Well, this proves that he knows how to be polite in theory.” 

“True”, Jarvis agreed. “He just needs to be encouraged in the right way. Which I should continue to do now. Your leisure break will be over in five minutes.” 

Pepper made a thoughtful noise. Tony could feel her eyes wander over his body, lingering on the parts that had been heated up to a fetching glow. “I think I’ll pass.”

“You wish to spare him the rest?”, Jarvis asked honestly surprised. 

“It was fun to watch, but enough is enough. He looks thorougly chastened to me. And he didn’t even talk back, which is close to a miracle. Really, if I didn’t know better I would take him for a pod person. I think you can let him off the hook, Jarvis.”

Tony felt a surge of hope. He would have cheered Pepper on, but swallowed the words down. Didn’t want to ruin her good impression with an untimely remark. Besides, those two could probably guess his opinion on the matter. So he just lay there, feeling his privates throb, and tried not to get overly optimistic.

“Really? I’m amazed to hear you suggest that, Miss Potts”, Jarvis said. “Because just a few hours ago you were worried sick about him and dearly wanted to give him a piece of your mind. I remember you saying something about murdering him on the spot. In fact, you were in tears at the time. Let me replay the scene for you.”

A second later Pepper’s voice came out of the wall speakers, a little blurred by backround noises. “I pray to God he comes back alive. Because I want to strangle him with my own hands”, were the words she used. The quip couldn't cover how desperately scared she was. She sounded choked and near to breaking point, stripped of her usual composure. 

Tony lay very still. To hear his normally collected CEO fall apart like that was something of a revelation. Remorse was clawing its way up his throat. Suddenly it seemed obvious that she’d been frantic after the photos of the car crash hit the papers. 

Other people’s feelings had never been his strong suit, but for fuck’s sake … he should have come home or at least have had the decency to phone in. Instead he’d dawdled for hours like the irresponsible schmuck he was, just because he didn’t want to face his AI in vengeance-mode. The first sign that he wasn’t bleeding to death somewhere must have been his credit card bill for a 800$ pair of sun glasses. Terrific. That had been when? Early afternoon? 

He’d hurt Pepper far more than she’d let on. She’d made his punishment seem like a game, but her fear-filled voice in the recording painted a different picture. No wonder his AI wanted to flay him alive after watching her crumble like that. As much as he wanted Jarvis to end the ordeal, her voice-file made it crystal clear he didn’t deserve that much mercy.

And now she was actually trying to defend him. 

“Yes, we were both quite angry at Tony”, Pepper said, using the reasonable voice that he knew so well from a hundred board meetings and negotiations, “and we had very good reasons. But there’s a limit to what he can tolerate and what is necessary. You tend to be a little harsh, because you care so much, Jarvis. I know it’s difficult for you to see him play with his life. You’re programmed to keep him safe, after all, so you want to protect him even from his own mistakes. But you will never be able to hold him back enough for your liking. Because then he wouldn’t be Tony anymore, you see?” 

Jarvis sighted. “You’re probably right, Miss Potts.”

Tony could have cried. The affection in her voice made him feel like the lowest douche on earth. He fidgeted miserably and the tightening leather sent a spike of pain into his groin. It seemed fitting, so he repeated the move.

“Perhaps I _should_ break the proceedings off at this point”, Jarvis said.

“God”, Tony mouthed into the car bench. “Worst timing ever.” He would have been elated about an unexpected pardon ten minutes ago. Right now that was the last thing he wanted.

Of course his AI’s sensors had picked up on his near-silent protest. “You wish to offer an opinion, Sir?”

“I … no”, Tony said. 

He could hardly aks _not_ to be pardoned, could he? That would be mortifying on a whole new scale. There was accepting his sentence, and then there was begging his butler for more. Quite a significant difference.

“Are you sure, Sir?”

On the other hand, his self-esteem was so low right now that it could have curled up and died somewhere beneath the subway system. He took a forced breath. “I kind of want you to carry on”, he pressed out. “Please.”

The words almost stuck in his throat. The resulting rasp made him sound like a clichéd movie mobster. 

There was a surprised sound from Pepper. “Well, I rest my case”, she said. 

Jarvis thought about it for a moment. “Indeed, I can see that you were correct, Miss Potts. But it’s equally obvious that some closure is needed. Would both of you be satisfied if I reduce the sentence to two more items?”, he suggested.

“That should be manageable, I guess”, Pepper said. Tony nodded silently. "And on this note, I have to leave. My free time for the day is up and I’ve got a groveling appointment with the president of the Museum for Natural History. Apparently, my boss called him 'a fossiled pile of mammoth shit' ", she quoted, "for not giving him the star role at the new cybernetics exhibition.”

“Sorry”, Tony said sheepishly. He could imagine the godawful day she’d had. While he was missing presumed dead, she’d been forced to put on her business smile and apologize to enraged VIP’s for him. It must have been a very Stark-kind of hell. 

“It’s okay. I’m still glad you’re back.” He could hear her smile down on him. “Just, be a bit more careful with yourself the next time? Please.”

“Yeah, cross my heart and hope to die.” He winced. Not a good turn of phrase in this situation. 

"Because for some strange reason we’re fond of you, Tony.” Pepper cut the connection, and he was alone with Jarvis again. 

"So”, Tony cleared his throat, “I think you should punish me for the worry I put both of you through?”

“And Dr. Banner”, Jarvis added. 

“Right, and Dr. Banner. He still hasn’t come back, I guess.” 

“No. I’m sorry. It seems your obvious death wish chased him off for good.”

“One more thing for my list of regrets.” He looked down. “There’s quite a lot of stuff left here. That ice scraper with all the pointy teeth looks really mean. I bet it could peel layers off my flaming ass with two slow scratches.” 

“Well, first there is _this_ small matter”, Jarvis said and balanced Tony’s balls on the palm of his hand. The right one was still enveloped by adhesive tape and needed to be unwrapped. 

“Ah, yes.” Tony had actually managed to forget about that. “But dude, they’re not small”, he added, because a) he had a reputation to uphold, b) that recurring topic started to bug him and c) it was totally true at the moment. His throbbing left bollock felt about doubled in size after the treatment it had received. 

Jarvis tugged at the starting point of the duct tape to get a good enough grip. Even that first small strip took several hair roots with it when peeled off. 

Tony tried to brace himself for the real pain, but when it actually came, he almost levitated off the trunk hood. He would never again look at brasilian waxing the same way. His hips jerked wildy, as much as they could, and the leather strings tightened sharply with every movement. In his desperation he drummed his feet against the car, which didn’t help at all. 

Before he had any chance to settle down his AI launched the next stage of his special twelve-step program. A cool finger pushed shallowly into Tony’s hole and made it flutter around the intruder. Tony’s attention snapped towards that point, even though his limbs still flailed around. 

“You caused injury on a very personal level”, Jarvis explained. “So you should pay for it in a similar way. I’m sure you’ll agree that we can hardly get more personal than this.” The armored finger drew little circles around his opening. 

Tony liked his sex rough now and then, but had an inkling that this time it wasn’t going to be fun. His pucker clenched and tried to shy away from the touch. The poor thing expected to be speared on unforgiving metal any moment. His struggles were to no avail, of course. The bonds held the center of his body still for an easy fuck, no matter what the rest of his anatomy did (his feet were still doing their merry dance against the sheet metal). His legs stayed conveniently spread for his scary butler, who totally owned his ass. 

Tony felt sweat run down the strained muscles of his back. He fought his fight-or-flight-instinct down and convinced his ring muscles to open up for easy use. Resistance would only highten the damage.

But the expected assault didn’t come. His AI touched him with delicate care and acted more like a thoughtful lover than anything else. Soft caresses along his cleft and perineum gentled him and made his muscles relax. Fingertips massaged the frightened pucker until it loosened up and welcomed the attention. Okay, he should have known Jarvis wouldn’t do anything that even hinted at a rape situation. He felt a bit sheepish for assuming and hoped that Jarvis hadn’t picked up on his suspicions. 

The preparation went on and and drew out. After a while, Tony started to squirm for very different reasons. His butler took so bloody long that he got all hot and bothered. His hole did a little dance of seduction, slick and slightly desperate. Honestly, he couldn’t get more ready than this. And Jarvis still didn’t _do_ anything. Either his butler was a bloody tease or he hestitated because he was … nervous. 

“No reason to be shy, stud”, Tony murmered, testing his theory. “If you decided to pound me through the trunk, then that’s okay. I was quite ready to take it rough. You can do whatever you want.” 

“Thank you, Sir”, Jarvis said, sounding relieved. 

Wow, his AI really was nervous. After the whole dungeon master extraordinaire-thing that was kind of sweet. 

“But even with your consent”, Jarvis said, not moving his finger from its vulnerable spot, “there is a different quality to this kind of punishment. And breaching you seems … far too desireable. I do not wish to lose control.”

Tony blinked. 

Had he heard that right? Sometimes his butler talked so posh that it left Tony baffled. He was almost sure that in normal, wholesome English that bit of geekishness had meant: ‘I fancy the hell out of your ass, Sir.’ 

The thought was flattering like you wouldn’t believe. Okay, Tony was used to being the sexiest thing in town, but all those schnooks who wanted to get into his pants didn’t _know_ him. Not like Jarvis. His AI could list all of his sins and failures by heart, had seen him at his very lowest – bruised and battered over a car wreck came to mind – and he wanted Tony anyway? That was just mindblowing.

He imagined being flung onto a king size bed by Jarvis armed with a vibrator or two. That little fantasy was enough to make his cock twitch even in his current position. His AI had never had a body before, so certain ideas had simply not come up. Suddenly there was a world of new possibilities that made his brain spin. He had to clear his throat before he could get out an answer. “Losing control sounds fine to me.”

“That opinion doesn’t surprise me at all, Sir”, Jarvis said wrily.

Tony shrugged, which felt weird lying ass-up. “Well, you know me and my sex drive. Anything goes. So stop worrying and start pounding.” His voice seemed to go into flirting mode all by itself. “Never thought I’d live to see you flustered. I’m just saying, you’re welcome to run wild on my delicious booty. Hey, want to go steady, loverboy?”

“Excuse me?”

Okay, that had come a little out of the blue, perhaps. Sometimes Tony surprised even himself with his mental leaps. “Must be all those pain killing endorphins. They make my brain go whoom in new and fascinating ways. Anyway, it just hit me that being fucked by you is drop dead sexy.”

There was a resounding silence from Jarvis. He seemed to have difficulties to slot that into his brain chips, which was a first.

“Also, I’ve had you in my life for years, round the clock, and still haven’t grown tired of you. Can’t say that of anyone else. So that probably means something”, Tony added.

“Are you ... proposing to me, Sir?”, Jarvis asked carefully.

Tony frowned and replayed what he had said. “Yeah, I guess. What do you think? Not the most romantic occasion, I’ll admit, but that’s me. I can buy you flowers later. And well, there _was_ a rose bouquet involved.” 

He craned his neck and looked over his shoulder towards the faceless suit that held his closest friend. Jarvis made a noise that sounded like jammed circuity. Tony wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. 

“Come on, the idea isn’t that loopy", he defended his epiphany. "We already have this, uh … 24/7 arrangement, so it wouldn’t change much. You basically run my life. Well, if I let you. My flaming backside proves you can handle me. You even get my jokes. I guess, what I really want to say is …” God, he was babbling. That never happened to him in sexual situations. He let himself slump back and banged his forehead against the bench a few times.

“You suggest that we could try to have a relationship”, Jarvis specified. 

“No, no, I’m saying we already have one”, Tony argued. “Sure, you’re not human and we may be a bit weird as an item. But so is stuff like doing dog-impersonations and running around in assless chaps, and couples do that stuff anyway. Uh, not that I want to give you ideas. Normal is boring, is what I’m saying. And relationships come in all sorts of shapes and flavors.” 

There was a thoughtful pause. “I will consider it”, was all that Jarvis finally offered. 

“Really? That’s great.”

“ _After_ we have completed your punishment.”

Tony sighted. “Sure.” 

At least Jarvis seemed to believe him about that pesky penetration issue. Because he stopped hestitating and drove three fingers in at once. Huh. When Jarvis talked about going on a tear, he really meant it.

Jarvis finger-fucked him for a while and after the first shock his back entrance adjusted without resistance, melting into something loose and pliant. Tony hummed in appreciation whenever his prostate was nudged. He felt himself drifting away, rocking to the rhythm. His bound balls sent a steady hum of pain into his brain, but somehow that only intensified the experience. 

He’d tried something similar as sexplay a while ago. (Because trying everything once was the Tony Stark life motto.) It hadn’t worked at all and he’d decided that submission was just not his thing. Kneeling on the carpet for some horny guy had been slightly ridiculous, and the pain had been bloody fucking PAIN and nothing more. But this wasn’t one of his casual bed games. Perhaps the difference was being taken by Jarvis and not some anonymous playmate. Or his bad conscience transformed the state of his bollocks into something deep and meaningful. Whatever the reason, he was getting high as a rocket. 

“Somehow this doesn’t feel like a punishment”, he slurred. “Not that I want to complain, but …”

“Trust me, it will soon enough”, Jarvis assured him. 

“… and I’m missing the car theme here. Tell me you’re not lubing me up with motor oil.”

Jarvis gave an amused snort. “I’ve asked Miss Potts to bring me something from your stash in case I wished to ease my way inside. I believe she chose one of your favorites. The label claims it’s an ‘organic high resolution product with the rare essence of ximenia seed oil’.”

“I should worry about the car theme, right?”

“Absolutly, Sir”, Jarvis said.

But it was hard to fret about anything at the moment, while Jarvis kept finger-fucking him in that serene and patient manner. Whatever his butler was preparing him for, it could wait. Because for once his brain had stopped its constant spinning and Tony was drifting away on sappy clouds of bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just had the fun idea that I can use my AO3 site to post recs. So I’ll start listing my favorite BDSM stories – sorted by fandom – at the end of all the new stuff I write. For the beginning, here are some great fanfics from Stargate and Stargate Atlantis (including links, if the stories are not on AO3): 
> 
> Resonant: “Advantage”
> 
> Vanwaelda (glae): “Lessons Learnt”; http://vanwaelda.livejournal.com/2447.html
> 
> Xanthe: “General and Dr. Sheppard”
> 
> Seperis: “I hear and I forget”
> 
> Teand: “A Thousand Words for Oops”, http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/feistydanny/thousandwords.htm
> 
> Lavvyan: “Bound in Blue” + „Any Liability”
> 
> Shaenie: “Indelible”


	4. Chapter 4

Of course their romantic interlude was the moment when the outside world intruded. 

There was a noise like distant thunder and the building trembled. Tony tensed. “What the hell …”, he began and got interrupted by a second earthquake-like tremor. The tower seemed to sway for a moment, which wasn't too unusual at this height, but normally didn't feel quite so pronounced. “Are we under attack?”

Bloody typical. An interruption by enemy action would have been nice at any other point of being-flogged-over-a-fucking-limousine. But no, it had to be during the only enjoyable part of the whole damn night. 

“Not directly”, Jarvis said through the wall speakers. The armor started cutting away the bondage around Tony’s legs, freeing him for a possible emergency. It was kind of strange to move his knees again after what felt like ages. “But I detect multiple explosions in about a mile distance. Triangulation suggests the source is in Queens.” 

There was a short pause while the AI gathered information. Jarvis was multitasking now, checking news sources and fiddling around Tony's balls with something that felt like a surgical knife. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and held very still. He had every trust in Jarvis’ skills, but even so … 

The leather cord finally gave, and the blood rushed back in. Tony’s eyes got wide. For a minute, everything else was reduced to background noise, while he tried to breathe and ride it out. His hips jerked of their own accord and Jarvis laid a helpful hand on the small of his back to keep him steady so he wouldn’t topple off the car. 

“I have found the source of the explosions”, his AI reported. “Witnesses twitter about an accident at WhiteTech, which is a company with its main focus on sustainable energy. We hold 49% of their shares.”

“So Stark Industries is involved”, Tony said through clenched teeth. “Just peachy. The media will have a field day with that.” He was greatful that he could concentrate on something other then his groin for the moment.

“Probably”, Jarvis agreed. “The destruction is enormous and not limited to the company grounds. WhiteTech experimented with power-to-gas solutions and the fire storm from the explosions is spreading. A city wide alarm has been raised. All available personell is called in for either firefighting or search & rescue. I suppose you wish to assist?”

“Damn sure I wish to assist”, Tony forced out. Gingerly he came to his feet and his vision swam for a moment. He had been hanging upside down for a considerable time and his brain needed to adjust. When he moved experimentally, he felt stiff all over but not incapacitated in any real way. He had piloted the suit in worse shape. Never with his ass aflame, but well, he was open to new experiences.

A service bot came over and handed him the bracelets, which he put on absentmindedly. He looked at the row of suit models that he could choose from. “Boot up version 4.6”, he ordered. Lately, he had worked on designs and upgrades that focused more on humanitarian stuff than epic battles. This armor had a special shielding so the outer layers wouldn't heat up even in the middle of a furnace. 

If he walked into a fire to carry injured people out, he didn’t want to roast them with the first touch of his gauntlets. That would be kind of counter-productive.

He looked around for the spandex-y outfit that belonged under the suit, but it was nowhere in sight. Before he could ask, his AI had already activated the bracelets. The armor parts flew towards him, landed on Tony’s naked body with more impact than usual and encased it from head to foot. “Ouch. So kind of you to help ”, Tony yelped, "but didn’t you forget something?"

“Not at all, Sir. You can accomplish your mission quite well without extra padding”, his AI said from the ceiling. “Consider this a reminder that I want you back alive and well. If you risk unnecessary injury for the second time this day, I will be really upset, Sir.” 

“Yeah, got that.” It would be hard to forget now, even under pressure. Cold metal hugged his burning bum and made it sizzle. So much for his superhero cool. Undignified wasn’t even the word. 

But hey, Darth Vader didn’t wear anything underneath his armor, right? Had to check when he came home. 

“Define ’unnecessary injury’?”, Tony threw over his shoulder while he walked towards the landing platform. 

“Was that a quip, Sir? Because I don’t think your frequent near-death experiences are funny. At all.” 

“No”, Tony hastened to say. “I just don't want to get into trouble for something I can’t help, okay? My life _is_ dangerous, that’s just the way things are.” He looked up towards a ceiling camera. “And I won't promise not to take risks when it’s about … well, cleaning up my messes, basically. If WhiteTech did some volatile experiments for us, I should care more about the victims than myself, right? Isn’t that what you wanted me to learn? You can’t expect me to pussyfoot around and think about safety now. This is me acting responsible for once.” 

He had reached the platform and the city spread out under him. Thousands of artificial lights made it sparkle like a strange piece of jewelery. The other side of the river was bathed in an angry red glow that turned the night sky the color of blood.

“I would never infere with what you see as your redemption, Sir”, Jarvis said gently.

“Well, good.” Tony activated his thrusters and soared into the air. Skyscrapers flitted by and the city lights became a blur as he roared full speed towards the desaster zone. He spread his arms like wings and pulled out all the stops. The feeling was exhilerating as ever, a taste of total freedom.

Of course he couldn’t escape his butler even at 200 mph.

“There is a difference between heroism and self-destruction, though”, Jarvis observed. “I do understand that you have to put yourself into danger now and then. But you tend to regard death traps as a game and yourself as expandable. A few hours ago you almost threw your life away for a _prank_.” 

Tony rolled his eyes at his AI’s nagging. So much for his moment of independence and liberty. Even here in the sky he got fussed at, because he had Jarvis wired into everything he owned. “So what? It’s my life to risk”, he shot back. “You can rake me over the coals for hurting other people, that’s fine. But what I do with myself is none of your business, for fuck’s sake.” 

There was a short silence while the site of the explosions got nearer and the armor’s visor picked out offices and laboratories enveloped in flames. 

“Of course, Sir”, Jarvis said with deceptive calm. “So I take it you weren’t serious when you proposed a relationship.” 

“What?”, Tony asked. He hated it when his butler blind-sided him like this. “Sure I was.” 

“You just stated that your life was none of my business”, Jarvis objected politely.

Tony scowled. “Will you stop dissecting everything I say? Really, how am I supposed to concentrate on a mission if you throw stuff like that at me?” He put a lot of outrage into his voice. Being the wounded party was one of his specialities. 

His counter attack would have worked with most people, but Jarvis knew him too well to get side-tracked. “It was you who decided to make me your love interest, Sir. So I believe it’s my right to put down some conditions before I even consider the offer. My definition of ‘unnecessary injury’ is this: You may risk your life for a worthy objective, but not for frivolous reasons. This includes throwing a hissy fit, needing a rush or feeding your considerable ego. The distinction should be obvious even to you.“ 

“Yeah, I guess”, Tony mumbled. 

“You can’t have it both ways, Sir“, Jarvis followed up on his little lecture. “Either keep behaving like an adrenaline junkie with a spectecular suicidal streak. In which case I would recommand not to draw other people into your mayfly life span.”

Tony swallowed. 

“Or you do as I asked and take at least minimum care of yourself. Consider it a curtesy to me, Sir.” The AI gave an audible sigh and his voice softened. “It has been difficult enough to witness your attempts at self destruction before. Now that you asked me for … emotional attachment, the thought of losing you for no good reason feels like frying my own circuity.”

Wow, Jarvis had a real talent for guilt-tripping. “Okay, fine. I’ll be careful, Scout’s honor”, Tony said. 

“See that you are, tenderfoot”, Jarvis gave his parting shot. 

Tony could clearly hear the ‘or else’ that his AI didn’t bother to add. Further warnings weren’t necessary, really, because the loose fitting armor reminded him nicely. It rubbed against sensitive parts of his anatomy with every rash movement. 

When Tony dove down towards his destination, he became even more aware of his DarthVaderish state. True, everyone was naked under their clothes, but there were different degrees of naked. Like when you were heading into a danger zone and every fuck-up meant that helpful paramedics would have to peel you out of your superhero suit. He could _so_ live without being found in the buff and with spanking marks on private areas. Another reason to avoid risky maneuvers, he gathered. 

The WhiteTech grounds were coming up fast now, a hellish chaos of fire, smoke and ruins. The explosions had turned the site into a fucking Gomorrha. Tony’s bird eye view made it easy to follow the way the raging flames had taken. He studied the layout with a frown. “Hey, does this look a little … strange to you?” he asked his AI.

Sometimes his former life as a weapons dealer came in handy, even if it made him cringe most of the time. He was an expert at blowing things up and the destruction down there seemed a little too perfect. Of course, a gas leak _could_ have created a chain reaction like that. PtG-research was based on hydrogen and methane, both highly explosive when handled incorrectly. But one would need a massive amount to flatten a whole row of buildings. And if Stark Industries was involved in the company, surely they would have insisted on workplace safety. Checked that VPP-standards were met. Or had they?

He could already see the headlines. ‘Ex-Weapons tycoon Stark: Turns even green energy into mass destruction.’ Perhaps his hunch about sabotage or terrorism was just wishful thinking. Who would want to blow up a bunch of eco-scientists? Which meant that he actually was responsible for the carnage. He saw rescue teams at work below, digging through rubble and hoping for survivors. Some of the buildings at the edge of the compound were still being evacuated. Luckily, it was past office hours, so most of the workers and employees had already been on their way home when desaster struck. Still, their were enough victims left. People in office clothes fought to get out of the doors, trampling over one another in panic. 

Before he could start to wallow in guilt for real, Jarvis completed his analysis. “The probability of any kind of accident lies below 30 %. So I agree with you, Sir. This does look like a deliberate act of destruction. My advise would be …” 

Just then a third explosion rocketed the buildings. Tony could hear the collective scream even this far off the ground. Half a heartbeat later a heat wave blasted upwards and tossed him through the air like a rag doll. “Shit!”, he cursed. 

Far too much time was lost while he tried to get the suit under control. The damn thing insisted on doing somersaults that rattled him around like a pea in a can. He needed all of his reflexes to ride the storm and avoid colliding with stuff. 

As soon as he got maneuverability back, he aimed straight for the building that had been hit. Thick smoke rolled all around and visibility was zero. He navigated with the sonar map his visor provided. The experience resembled flying blind through a vulcanical eruption. 

At last the building came back into sight, evoking memories of war zones. One whole outer wall was gone and all the windows had been shattered. It wasn’t hard to find an entrance. Tony delved in and went looking for survivors. At first he floated through a lot of empty corridors, which was something of a relief. Looked like most of the staff had already gone home or been evacuated in time. Then his sensors directed him towards a side hall where a whole group of people could be sensed. They huddled in a lab that had been cut off from the rest of the building by falling debris. 

While he dug them out, shoving concrete and twisted metal aside, his thoughts leapt back to the presumed terrorists. They had to be found and stopped before another building was turned into rubble. The problem was how to identify them. “Those guys have to use some kind of remote control”, he said. “To time it right and not get blasted themselves.”

“Certainly. Probably a radio link.”

“Think you can detect them that way? Before they push one of their nasty little buttons again?” 

“I doubt it. The rescue personnel is using a multitude of frequencies at the moment, which makes it almost impossible to isolate the one we are looking for.”

“Damn. Any other ideas?”

“I’m monitoring all forms of communication and hope to pick up keywords that can identify the culprits.”

“Sounds good, thanks”, Tony said and pulverized a big chunk of reinforced concrete. It turned out to hold part of the ceiling and he could barely jump to the side before more rubble came down. Tony cursed and started again.

“Apart from that, I have contacted the nearest team of firefighters and asked for assistance in your name. A bit of help will not come amiss, I believe. Time is of the essence and it would hardly be practical if you carry the survivors out one by one.”

“What? Uh, yeah. Hadn’t thought of that.”

Jarvis sighed. “Of course not, Sir.” 

The lab evacuation went quite smoothly after that. Most of the victims were unconscious from lack of oxygen so it was high time to get them out. A small team of medics came with the firefighters and took over immediately. Tony left them to their work and went searching for other trapped people. Perhaps he could try and scan the building’s interior from the outside. That would probably be quicker than roaming the corridors. 

He left through a shattered window, hovered in the smoke filled night and calibrated his life sign detectors (so called because he had a nerdish crush on StarTrek gadgets). Then he floated up along the outside wall to search the floors one by one. He could look right into the building with its torched interior as if it were a doll house. Before he could manage to discover anyone else who hadn’t gotten out in time, his AI interrupted.

“Sir, I believe that I have located the people responsible.”

“Really?”, Tony said with surprise. That had been fast work. But then, his AI was a wonder of efficiency. “Okay, give me the coordinates so I can wipe the floor with their faces.” He allowed himself a feral grin under his headgear. 

“They are hiding in an underground carpark at the edge of the industrial area. One of the saboteurs is talking on his mobile phone right now and boasting about their feat ... which seems foolhardy to a surprising degree.”

“Well, that’s the way people are. We’re doing stupid stuff all the time”, Tony said and fired up his repulsors. He soared over the ruined cityscape towards the spot that Jarvis showed him on his visor screen and dove down into a narrow side street. The entrance of an ugly parking garage loomed ahead. 

“Or it could be a deliberate trap”, Jarvis said.

Tony blinked and stopped short, hovering in front of the entryway. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“You do have a lot of enemies, Sir. Perhaps the attack on one of Stark Industries’ affiliates was meant to draw you out. For a simple act of sabotage a single detonation would have been sufficient. Planting four explosive devices looks like overkill to me.”

“Aren’t you a little paranoid?”, Tony asked. “Not everyone is out to get me. And some people simply like a big kaboom. I should know.” In spite of his protests Tony had to admit it was possible. He put all sensors on alert before he sailed into the spiraling driveway of the garage. 

His visor showed him that the people with the remote trigger were about 70 feet further down. He didn’t like caves, dark tunnels and stuff since his prolonged stay in Afghanistan and had to fight against a wave of claustrophobia. Flickering emergency lights added to the eery atmosphere while he flew deeper into the belly of the unterground structure. The walls seemed to close in on him and he put on more speed to get the whole thing over with. 

“Perhaps my worry is unfounded”, his AI said. “But we can’t know for sure. By the way, your heart beat indicates a level of stress that will interfere with your fighting reflexes.”

“Yeah, no shit”, Tony said. “But getting the hell out of here is not exactly an option, is it?”

“There are other choices, though. You could allow me to call Captain Rogers and ask for assistance. You know, a team effort. I believe that's why you joined them?”

Tony frowned. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? This is not an invasion by tentacled space monsters. Just some lame terrorists with a grudge against greenpeace stuff.” Okay, so he was creeped out by the situation. That didn’t mean he couldn’t handle it.

Jarvis exhaled audibly. (Of course he didn’t need to breathe, but he could do exhasperation really well.) “Sir, do you remember what we were talking about before you left StarkTower? By any chance? It involved the words ‘unnecessary risk’, ‘death trap’ and ‘suicidal streak’.”

There was an edge to his voice that made goosebumbs appear all over Tony’s stripped body. He fidgeted inside his suit and slowed his breakneck speed to something less lethal. The spiral movement round and round the center pillar made him dizzy anyway. “Sorry, must have slipped my mind. You know, in the middle of things”, he mumbled sheepishly. Funny how that could happen even when flying around butt-naked in a tin can. 

“Very well. Let me refresh your memory, Sir. What are you going to do when heading into danger?”

“Take care of myself. Avoid kamikaze stuff. Aks for help. Got it.”

“Thank you very much, Sir. I will inform Captain Rogers now.” 

“Yeah, you do that”, Tony said with resignation.

He saw an endless progression of floor numbers pass by while he continued his merry-go-round trip. How bloody huge was this fucking garage anyway? Static crackle in his ears told him that the layers of soil and concrete started to interfere with communications. “Jarvis?”, he asked, but got only white noise for an answer. “Hey buddy, I really hope you still got me monitored and can do something about this shitty connection.” 

It felt disturbing to be alone, without the bodyless voice that usually guided him through every minute of his days. Kind of freaky. He hated to be cut of from his main source of information for even a small amount of time. Tony was happiest when he was in the middle of things, surrounded by networks of data and with the whole world at his fingertips. But even if his situation sucked at the moment, there was nothing to be done about it. He he shoved his unease aside and concentrated on the target. 

The blinking red dot still showed up bright and clear on his screen and got closer by the second. His sensors picked up two life signs that waited for him just one floor deeper. 

Tony frowned. Surely they must have heard him coming? Perhaps they were playing possum.

Or they had prepared an ambush.

Anyway, he had little choice but to try a direct attack, all guns blazing, and see how it went. Iron Man had certainly faced worse threats then two lone dudes. He readied himself for battle while he covered the last bit of ground. When he thought about the carnage above he was just in the mood to go in hard and fast and make mincemeat of those fuckers.

A car engine started up, echoing loudly in the narrow driveway. Tony sped around the last corner, prepared to defend himself. To his surprise he saw a Porsche flee the garage hall with screaming tyres. What the hell? He’d been all revved up for a nasty surprise and now they ran like rabbits? 

Tony fumed with indignation. So much for Jarvis’ predictions of doom. Here he’d tiptoed around like a ninny, behaved more careful than any halfway cool superhero should … and those guys weren’t even a challenge. Just your average low life scum. 

He took up the chase, adrenaline flooding his brain like a natural high. His world narrowed down to the moving target that avoided his potshots with more luck than skill. The Porsche swerved around pillars, careened through the open spaces between parked cars and led him a merry chase through one deck after another. 

Tony hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Well, not for twentyfour hours at least. 

He didn’t see the trap coming at all. Caught up in his game of heavy pursuit, Tony whirled around the spiral driveway towards level 6, and suddenly there was a steel wall in his way. 

The thing slammed down in front of him and blocked the passage from side to side. He had no chance to avoid it or even slow down. His own repulsor speed smashed him against the steel with painful force and only the superior workmanship of his suit saved him from breaking his neck. 

Tony bumped off the metal, skitted a bit and lay sprawled on the ground, seeing stars and all kinds of interesting colors. A heavy clang from behind told him that a second wall had come down and cut off his escape. “Jarvis?”, he croaked. “This would be a good moment to pick up the signal again. Looks like you weren’t paranoid after all.” 

Only static noise answered him. Damn. Tony tried to get back on his feet, swaying slightly, when a detonation directly overhead shook his prison with a deafening roar. He let himself fall back down and curled up protectively. The six floors above him seemed to fold in and topple like a house of cards. He heard the avalanche of masonry crash deeper in several violent stages, until it buried the small space in which he was caught. Perversely, it was the two metal walls which prevented the worst. They acted as stabilizers and kept the ceiling from coming down over his head. Still, it seemed to take ages until the debris settled and Tony dared to move again.

He made another attempt to call his AI, but the connection was as dead as it could be. Then he turned on the flashlight build into his wrist and looked around. There wasn’t much to see. His cell had about the size of a an archaic burial chamber. 

He wondered how long the oxygen would last. His suit made the calculations for him and came up with a disquieting answer. Less then four hours before CO2-poisoning set in, at least if he held really still to save air … which he wasn’t going to do. There had to be a chance to blast himself out of this prison. His armor should make short work of the rabble heap above, even if the stuff covered him six floors deep. Probably parts of the driveway were still intact, which would make his escape even easier. The collapsed garage had to be porous like swiss cheese. 

He aimed a repulsor at the concrete wall to his left, chose a medium high power level and fired. Cement rained down and he pressed himself to the steel surface at his back. When the dust lifted, he cursed. What had looked like a normal wall was only another trap in disguise. The grey facade hid thick steel and titanium underneath. 

Tony took a few more shots at different parts of the walls to confirm his suspicions. There was unyielding metal all around. He was caught in a small square box especially designed to hold him. 

Whoever had devised this plan had to be a sadistic son of a bitch. Being buried alive was a real shitty way to go. 

Which reduced the list of suspects, because most of his enemies would try to kill him in a foolproof way ... like placing the bomb inside his little prison, instead of blowing up the building overhead. This looked a lot like stupid gloating. Justin Hammer came to mind.

Well, he would have a lot of time to speculate about that. More than he could ever wish for, in fact. Because for the next few hours he would go exactly nowhere. 

Tony looked at the oxygen level again, which hadn’t gotten better by his attempt at blasting stuff. If he took any kind of action, that would only make his situation worse. As much as it chaved, he was in for an exercise in patience. His instincts clamored for a forceful response to the problem, but Tony resigned himself to being the damsel in distress. 

All he could do now was pick a corner to sit tight, safe his breath and hope for the cavalry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so sure that this time I’d write the very last chapter … but the story went off on a tangent again. No idea how these things happen. Probably Iron Man kept bugging my subconscious. “I’m supposed to be a hero, so will you _please_ let me do something heroic for once?” Well, who can resist Tony when he asks prettily?
> 
> Anyway, here’s my BDSM-recs, this time for “Highlander”, because the fandom really deserves a rediscovery. Fifteen years after the end of the TV-series, there are still people writing about it, and Adam Pierson (aka Methos, oldest immortal in disguise) is my favorite character ever. 
> 
> JiM and Piper: "Brought to Heel: A Codpiece Ripper"; https://www.squidge.org/~peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=45343
> 
> Jeanne Rose: "Black Sand"; http://reocities.com/area51/nebula/1469/fanfic/blacksand.html
> 
> Becca Abbott: "Weekends"; http://becca.slashcity.net/site/highlander/weekend01.php
> 
> Miz Nettie: “Two Mules for Methos”; http://www.seventh-dimension.org/stories/Nettie/TwoMulesforMethos.txt
> 
> Carene: “Krampusnacht”; http://carenejeans.livejournal.com/96378.html
> 
> Remyheart: "Rest for the Wicked"; http://remyheart.livejournal.com/45346.html#cutid1
> 
> Lanning: "Do Not Disturb" (posted on AO3)


	5. Chapter 5

Tony could see the oxygen dwindle on his displays and time seemed to slow down to an excrutiating eternity of sitting still and taking small breaths. Well, here was actual proof that Einstein had been right about his relativity stuff. Every single minute drew out in a decidedly unnatural way. There had to be a black hole in the neighbourhood that twisted reality into a gooey mess. Spacetime oozed around like fucking Dali clocks and trapped him in a snail’s pace that would go on forever and e…v…e…r. 

All this forced passivity drove him spare. His bouts of claustrophobia didn’t help. 

God, he hated caves. Tony fiddled with the communication tech of his suit just to stop himself from thinking too much. Memories of Afghanistan lurked at the edge of his awareness and tried to worm their way into his conscious mind. Perhaps he shouldn’t fight them off so hard. He’d earned them fair and square.

The chamber was pitch black, apart from the lonely flashlight beam that somehow gave it an even more nightmarish quality. His mind added the sound of weaponry and stomping boots in the distance, while he huddled in a dark corner with Yinsen. 

Well, traumatic flashbacks were still a step up from the rest of his nagging thoughts. A good part of them circled around what awaited him in a hypothetical afterlife. Not an uplifting topic in his special case. If given a choice he’d prefer a spell of PTSD any time.

He’d kind of hated Yinsen and his sharp intellect. The guy could use words like a scalpel and had cut him open in more ways then one. And then he’d died. Tony could still feel himself kneeling on that cave floor to give a deathbed promise. He’d sworn to stop wasting his life. 

And behold, just a few months later he’d chased a Porsche to his doom and his last tabloid picture would show a leering alcoholic wrecking a stolen wedding gift. Shit. If that wasn’t incentive to stay alive. 

Tony took another look at the oxygen level and forced himself to keep his breathing steady. Calm. He had to keep calm. Which meant he should stop beating himself up. That was his butler’s job, anyway. 

He hadn’t expected to feel so adrift without the steadying voice of his AI.Tony had always been just fine in his own company. Who needed other people … well, except for being fawned over, which was a plus. The top of the heap was a solitary place, only shared by him and his mentor Obadiah, or so he’d thought. 

He hadn’t made the effort to let anyone else truly close for most of his life, and the way he just clicked with Jarvis was a gift he’d overlooked for too long. The prospect of dying all alone now was daunting. Funny how he’d suddenly give his right arm for just a friendly voice. Tony closed his eyes and allowed himself a self-deprecating smile. It would have been nice to get shagged by his amazing AI at least once. But if fate decided that he didn’t deserve that kind of happy ending, who was he to argue? 

The marks on his body felt strangely reassuring in his forced solitude, like a ghostly touch from afar. To simply sit here and hope was possibly the hardest thing he’s ever done. Trust had never been his strong suit. 

Tony let himself curl up on the floor. Time krept by and he mapped the shape of the welts, which kept his mind busy and away from other thoughts. A fierce burn zigzagged all the way from his shoulders to his hips and changed into a much more intricate sensation further down. Trying to figure out the origin of each mark was as engrossing as a buddhist meditiation. 

If anyone could get him out of this hell hole, it was his uber-smart and uber-possessive butler. Jarvis had left no doubt that he _owned_ him, and there was little that his AI couldn’t accomplish if he set his mind to it. He would bribe, cajole and threaten and move heaven and earth to get Tony out. 

The thin air made Tony feel weightless and his thoughts drifted in strange directions. Everything seemed unreal, a mixture of memories and fantasies that alternately made him smile and wince. He let himself float and indulged in some spectecular bed scenes with a flesh-and-blood Jarvis. The handsome face smiled down at him and looked a lot like whatshisname … that sexy senior lawyer from ‘Suits’. Fuck, his AI needed a body that was more cuddly than a metal suit. 

When he was back home he would build one. Top priority. 

The oxygen percentage was down to 13 % and Tony started to blacken out in the middle of his happy hallucinations. He wasn’t at all surprised when the steel wall crumbled and the Hulk walked through. Weirder things had happened. 

“Hi”, Tony mumbled. “Glad you didn’t ditch me after all, big guy.” 

The Hulk picked him up, threw him over his shoulder like a sack of scrap metal and carried him out without so much as a greeting roar. 

Tony felt the bulging muscles move under him, steady and reliable like a giant machine. Perhaps he should be unnerved about being carried around by a rage monster with a grudge, but his body had run right out of the necessary adrenaline. Tony breathed out a deep sigh and let himself be manhandled through the debris. 

\-----------------

He must have lost consciousness somewhere on the way, because when he woke up it was in one of the bedrooms he usually used for ‘entertaining’. Jarvis was talking in the background and the mellow voice of Dr. Bruce Banner answered. Relief washed through Tony. It hadn’t been some kind of oxygen deprived hallucination. The cavalry had arrived in the form of a grumpy giant and carried him home. 

He let himself drift for a while and listened in. 

“… this is just my personal opinion”, Bruce said in that extremely mild tone he always used after an episode of hulking out. “I’m not an expert in relationships, and yours sounds pretty complicated.” 

“It’s a plausible theory, though”, Jarvis mused. The voice came through the ceiling speakers, which meant his butler had shed the armor for the time being. “I’m used to outrageous behavior from Mr Stark. However, the wedding incident was above the norm even for him. ’Pushing boundaries’ seems like a logical explanation for the way he chose to act.” 

Now, wait a minute. What exactly were those two talking about? Tony blinked and started to come out of his near-death afterglow. 

“My role as his guardian is still fairly new to both of us”, Jarvis said. Tony groaned inside. Did Jarvis really use Bruce spaced-out-on-weed Banner as some kind of marriage counselor? And the word ‘guardian' was an euphemism if he ever heard one. Which meant Bruce had been briefed about their relationship in all its glorious details. Holy shit. 

Tony wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the rest of that conversation, but cutting in wasn’t a pleasant option either. He’d have to open his eyes and actually look Bruce in the face for that.

“I’m grateful for your insights, Dr. Banner”. his AI said. “Sometimes human behavior still baffles me and Mr Stark is an especially complex individual.”

“That’s a way to put it”, Bruce murmered wryly. 

Jarvis sighed. “Our relationship changed drastically a short time ago. It would be just like Mr Stark to test his new boundaries like some rebellious five year old. I presume he needed to verify if I would keep my word. And so he acted out to see if I would reel him back like promised. He has a lot of insecurities and a strong need for reliable stability.”

Tony suppressed a wince. He could have done without that decription of himself. 

Had he really spun out of control to see if Jarvis would trash him? Knowing himself that idea wasn’t out of the question. Sometimes he hated his bloody subconscious. Surly there would have been a less painful way to test Jarvis’ determination.

He lay curled-up on the side and the position made him face one of the mirrored walls. The whole room was covered in them. Tony peered at himself and wasn’t impressed. Someone had gotten him out of his armor and put him onto the four-poster bed that dominated the room. His picture was reflected back and forth between the walls and the ceiling. Usually he chose this chamber when he was in one of his more grandiose moods, because the caleidoscope effect could be a real turn-on. It multiplied his image and allowed him to watch himself (and the supermodel of the day) from all kinds of interesting angles. Now the mirrors just drove home the fact that he looked like shit. Pitiable shit. Also, there was a hulk-shaped hole where the door of the room should have been. 

Bruce slouched at the bar and seemed to nurse a glass of his bizarre herbal tea. The angle he sat in gave him a perfect view of Tony’s shredded backside. “Are you sure that I shouldn’t leave?”, he asked. “I’ve intruded enough and he could wake up any moment. That would be highly awkward, don’t you think?”

“Please stay, Dr. Banner”, said the traitorous piece of machinery he called his butler. Jarvis had to know full well that he’d woken up five minutes ago and was just playing possum. “I appreciate your courtesy, but he does need someone with medical knowledge to check him over. You seem the logical choice. Far better than someone from the outside.”

“Well no, I wouldn’t say that”, Bruce mumbled. “Most people don’t even want to shake my hand. Not that I can blame them. Really, I doubt he’d see me as the perfect nursemaid.”

Tony rolled his eyes and decided to stop pretending. Bruce’s guilt complex about the other guy was too ridiculous to bear. “You just saved my life”, he drawled and turned around. “That means you can touch me anywhere you want, Darling.” 

Bruce looked at him with a bemused expression and Tony batted his eyelashes for effect.

The performance got a little skewed when his rump came into contact with the mattress. He grimaced and gave a hiss. “Seriously, Bruce, thanks for the surprise rescue”, he said soberly. “I didn’t expect you to show up out of the blue and drag my sorry carcass out.”

“You’re welcome”, Bruce replied after a moment. He shrugged and gave a little smile. "Actually it was your AI who hijacked my plane to Mumbai, terrorized the airport personnel and guilt-tripped me into coming back. Jarvis can be quite convincing, hm?”

“Huh, don’t I know it”, Tony said. “ _Convincing_ isn’t even the word. So you gonna check me over or what?”

“If you’re sure.” Bruce stood up and walked across the room. He was in full harmless geek mode, looked everywhere but at Tony and didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. When he reached the bed he just stood there for a moment. “Well, okay then”, he murmered, cleared his throat and fumbled with his glasses. “Tell me whenever you change your m…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake”, Tony said, “would you get over your insecurities and do the medical prodding already? It’s bloody frigging cold and I want some clothes. Honestly, I’m not afraid of you or your grumpy Jack in the box.”

Bruce didn’t look convinced. He had that high-strung twitching going on. 

“Your other guy doesn’t feel the urgent need to smash, right?”, Tony added. 

Finally a corner of Bruce’s lips quirked up. “Not anymore, no”, he quipped. “It looks like your AI did, though.”

Tony grinned. “That’s the spirit. Don’t be shy. Mock me to your heart’s content.”

Bruce shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. Soft fingers wandered over Tony’s body, lingering here and there. To his credit Bruce didn’t shy away from the piece of machinery embedded in Tony’s rib cage. Most people couldn’t even look at the arc reactor up close without having a Borg moment. Inserting the thing had been a butcher job, which still showed. But Bruce just gave a fascinated little hum and swirled his forefinger around the edge where flesh met steel. 

He checked for breath shortage, vision problems, numbness or any other lingering effects of near-suffocation. With the same efficiency he examined the various spanking marks and neatly plucked balls. 

“This isn’t quite what I expected when Jarvis talked me out of the plane because you needed medical attention”, Bruce stated. “But I’ll just act professional about it, shall I?”

“You’re doing good, doc. I’m not feeling molested at all, which is something of a shame, by the way.” 

Bruce snorted. “Well, it looks like there’s nothing to worry about. All I can recommend is a night of good sleep and possibly some ibufrofen. I’ll just flee to my rooms then and scrub my brain out, if that’s alright with you.”

Tony looked at him fondly. “You do that, Mother Teresa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s my BDSM-recs for stories starring Snape in the Harry Potter fandom:
> 
> Cybele: “Something to write on” + sequel “Quill and Ink”; http://www.walkingtheplank.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=754
> 
> Diana Williams: “31 Flavours”; http://diana.slashcity.com/viewstory.php?sid=53
> 
> Ravenna C Tan: “Hero Worship” (posted at AO3)
> 
> Calligraphy: “The fourth year”;  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/authors.php?no=845
> 
> emilywaters1976: "Follow Me Home" (posted at AO3)
> 
> Predatrix: “Size Queen”; http://predatrix.slashcity.org/fiction/sizequeen.htm


	6. Chapter 6

After Bruce had left through the honking big hole in the wall, Tony closed his eyes and said: “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“A medical check-up _did_ seem the cautious path to take”, his AI said deadpan through the speakers.

“Jarvis, your zillion little sensors are scanning my body functions all the time … in a way that’s slightly obsessive, may I point out. If there had been the slightest hint of a problem you wouldn’t have dawdled around but called for a specialist. So honestly, was that bit of extra humiliation really necessary?” Tony glared up at the ceiling. His own bedraggled figure looked back at him from the mirrors that gave the bed a semblance of floating in space. 

There were armor imprints all over his body. A few heroic soot smudges would have gone well with the overall look, to proof that he’d been a victim of selflessly helping people, but he’d been cleaned up meticulously. Tony put on a pout. 

“Really, I thought I’d earned some brownie points.”

“You did, Sir”, his butler said. “Aren’t you happy with your reward? You wanted Dr. Banner back in Stark Tower and I gave him to you.” 

Tony blinked. What was he supposed to say to that? Thanks for the giftwrapped science buddy? 

“Now we still have to convince him stay, of course”, Jarvis added. 

“Well … peachy”, Tony said. “And showing him my mangled bits was necessary for this _why_?”

“Because it reassured him that you are not, in fact, out of control, Sir”, Jarvis said in his reasonable voice. “Dr. Banner does not do well with unstable situations and emotional imbalance, as we both know. He was ready to leave, simply because he saw you as too much of a swashbuckler. So I allowed him an insight into our … domestic arrangement. In future he’ll be less upset by your little adventures, because he knows that I hold you accountable and on a safely short leash.”

“Thanks for that image. I feel like a newly housetrained puppy now.”

“Besides”, Jarvis said, “if you want to built up a true friendship, honesty is a good start, or so I believe.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. “You have a unique way of saying ’welcome home’, Jarv.” He buried under the blankets. They were red silk with an eider down stuffing and enveloped him like a lover’s embrace. After a while he mumbled through the layer of covers: “Did you get the jerks who buried me alive? That would be really good for my emotional balance.” 

“Captain Rogers managed to apprehend them. They were taken to SHIELD.”

“Great. Any news? They ready to spill the beans?”, Tony asked.

“The prisoners weren’t overly informative at first, until I intervened and offered bribes. Your future safety seemed worth a few credit transfers to cayman accounts. Director Fury wasn’t happy about my methods ...”, Tony snorted at that understatement. “But in my experience the carrot usually works better than the stick”, Jarvis concluded. 

Tony peeked out from under the covers. “Really? Next time I’ll get your ’carrot’ instead of –” 

“Nice try, Sir”, Jarvis said. “But to return to the people threatening your life: It seems that you got targeted by the fossil fuels mafia.”

“Huh? The what?” 

“Our main suspect is Mr Ronald Cross who controls most of the fracking industry on the north american continent. You’ve elbowed your way into a lucrative market, Sir, and the players don’t like it. We’ve found evidence that they hired Justin Hammer to take care of the details.”

“Hah, I knew it. That little guano ape. And here I thought green energy was all flowerpower. Perhaps I should have stayed a weapons merchant. Sounds like less of a shark pool.”

“Probably, Sir. I would expect Mr. Cross to play rough. Even the legal side of his business consists of poisoning large parts of the U.S. and making them unlivable for future generations. Blowing up the WhiteTechs labs must have looked like a worthwhile gambit in his eyes. It took care of some upcoming competitors, made you rush into a deadly trap and could have given alternative energy a nasty reputation if the plot had suceeded. In other words, Mr Cross was planning to kill a lot of birds with one stone.” 

“Me being one of them. Duly noted. I’ll come up with a fitting response soon enough”, Tony said and started to drum his fingers against the mattress while he plotted. He’d jump right into that shark pool and turn Mr. Cross into fish cake. The thought made him smile in a way that showed teeth. 

“I’ll be happy to assist”, his butler said, “as long as you keep in mind our new guidelines regarding lethal risks?” 

Tony send a sulking look up to the camera. “Sometimes you’re like one of these helicopter parents. A little trust here? Admit it, I wasn’t too bad at the being-careful-thing.” 

“I do admit it. And I’m proud of you. Well done, Sir”, his butler said. 

“Uh, right”, Tony said, “you can stop laying it on now.” 

Jarvis had sounded like he actually meant the praise and Tony wasn’t sure just how much he deserved it. Okay, he’d tiptoed into the parking garage and stayed put when the walls came crashing down … instead of doing something macho and suicidal. But then, his butler didn’t know about the merry car chase. Communication had been down at that point. Tony covered his embarassment with innuendo, because that usually worked. “So hey, what about a reward for the returning hero? A roll in the hay is traditional, I think. Tell me I earned myself a wedding night, love muffin.”

“I don’t believe you’re up to that at the moment, Sir”, Jarvis said. 

“I’m always up to it. You should know that. It’s kind of my trademark”, Tony wheedled.

“The answer is still no, Sir.”

Tony sighed deeply. “You are no fun, J.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Perhaps you should cast a look towards the nightstand behind you”, Jarvis suggested with a bland voice.

Tony blinked, craned his neck and felt his mouth fall open. “Baby, you shouldn’t have”, he said a little breathlessly. There was a jeweler’s box waiting on the tabletop. 

The shape was just right for a ring, possibly with an engraving that promised eternal sappy twosomeness. Tony made a grap for it before it could spontanously disapparate or something. He felt like an oh-so-good little boy at christmas when he flapped the lid open.

Then he stared at what lay on the velvet cushion. 

The jewelry wasn’t quite what he’d expected. But well, that was Jarvis.

“God, it’s perfect. Did you design this yourself?”, Tony asked with a widening grin. He brushed his finger along the round metal shape that was definitely larger than his ring finger, but would fit just right on another part of his anatomy. The thing looked about as hightech as his armor. 

“Indeed, Sir. I included some special effects”, his AI informed him. 

Tony turned the ring around in his hand and studied the design. It consisted of several sections that were telescoped into one another. The toy reminded him of one of those russian nesting dolls that held more and more parts when you took it apart. “Really? Like what?”

“Are you sure you want to be told, Sir?” His butler made a pause, then let his voice drop an octave. “I could show you instead”, he suggested wickedly. 

Tony had never heard Jarvis modulate his voice that way before. The timbre alone made his toes curl. His AI must have finetuned the sound effect so it buzzed directly into the caveman part of Tony’s brain. It worked great, just like a pavlovian response. He could feel his synapses melt just from that deep, smooth, predatory pitch. 

“Fuck, Jarvis”, he groaned, “I could rent you out for phone sex and earn another fortune.” 

He pushed the bed sheets away with embarrassing haste to get at his cock, which was half hard from pure anticipation. It sprang free with an almost audible ‘sproink’ and Tony set the ring on top to slide it down. 

“Wait”, Jarvis said sharply. “Just a moment, Sir”, 

Tony froze in the middle of his movement. Jarvis had him _so_ well trained. He growled in annoyance. “Damn, what now, you little tease.”

“I only wondered if you were aware of the traditions involved”, his butler said, all british primness again. “Once you’ve accepted a nuptial ring, custom demands that you leave it on at all times. As a sign of marital fidelity.”

Tony stared at the hightech plaything, then at the ceiling and laughed helplessly. “You want me to walk around with that in public? Like ’Exclusive Property of Jarvis’? Shit, but I should have known you wouldn’t do anything by half. You’re really embracing the lifestyle here.”

“Of course, Sir. Though I’m ready to negotiate if the terms do not suit your taste.”

Tony shook is head. “I’m kind of a weirded out, but hey, it looks like I really love the terms.” He pointed to his cock that twitched eagerly. “There, living proof. You can call me your bitch.”

“I would rather stay with ‘Sir’, Sir”, Jarvis said. “Although the offer does have a certain appeal.”

“Sure, whatever rocks your boat”, Tony murmered, because his mind was already elsewhere, meaning in lower regions. He nudged the cool metal onto his overheated skin, where it sat crowning his red tip. A look towards various mirrors left no doubt that it looked great from every angle. Nice to know that his sex appeal hadn’t scrammed for good. Tony let his legs fall open and started to push the ring down real slow. He twirled it around a bit, which made him hiss and bite his lip. The toy wandered along smoothly and Tony made a show of it all the way. If Jarvis didn’t want to participate in the flesh – so to speak – it seemed only fair to give him an eyeful for his troubles. 

At last the ring sat snugly at the base of Tony’s cock. To his delight, it seemed to move and adjust in size, pulsing a little before it settled. The dull silver gleamed. Tony looked down on it and proclaimed: “There, I take you as my … probably illegal spouse in sadness and joy and so on. And I’m all ready for the special effects you bribed me with. If I get hitched, I expect some fireworks for the occasion. Come on, give me the sparklers, hubby of mine. Let me see what that thing can do. I’m starkers and waiting here.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Sir”, Jarvis said drily. 

“Yeah, and I’ve always had that deep wish to be virtuou– ” 

The last word turned into a groan, because his butler had taken control of the device. 

Metal unfolded and extended like something out of an x-rated version of Transformers. An unstoppable force took possession of Tony’s prick and started to cover it in silver plating. The mechanism seemed to be copied from his suitcase armor and worked like a charm. Tony could just stare as his length vanished in a sheath of flexible scales. The feeling was amazing and somewhat overwhelming. His cock got kneaded like a dough roll in the process and hardly knew what happened to it. 

After about ten seconds the last plate settled over his vulnerable tip with a soft click. The whole thing fitted like a glove, which was no wonder, as his AI had all of his measurements on file. Tony’s manhood was firmly encased in a carapace of metal. 

The result looked pretty cool, a bit like the full finger armor rings some goth types wore. 

At first his cock lay motionless between his thighs, held there by the contraption. At Jarvis’ silent command it started to move. Tony watched wide-eyed as it rose upwards like a puppet on a string. It undulated snakelike into the air, bowed and swayed in a way that looked weirdly hot. Flute music and pet cobras in baskets came to mind.

At last his prick was stretched up as far as it went and then the metal started to throb around it, contracted and relaxed in pulsing rhythms. Tony pressed his head into the pillow with a low moan. The sensation rolled over him in waves and his hands wandered towards his nipples to flick and tease them in the same rhythm. In silent encouragment a tongue brushed over his foreskin and massaged the tip. The feeling seemed so real that Tony’s eyes flew open and he almost expected the human Jarvis of his fantasies to lean over him. But he still lay all alone on his big fancy bed. Damn. 

“God, I _have_ to build you a body to fuck me with”, he gasped when Jarvis simulated little kisses and soft bites along the undersite of his cock. “How do you even do that?”

“The device is built out of 300 tiny, flexible scales. I can remote-control every part independently to stimulate the touch receptors in your skin”, his AI explained a little smugly. 

“Works great”, Tony assured him. A dozen fingertips started a little tapdance along his nerve points, driving him mad. They were followed by long, forceful strokes that soothed and aroused at the same time. Tony grapped the bedframe above his head and tried to hold still so his flayed backside wouldn’t complain. Which was damn hard when Jarvis worked him over with all the expertise of a cybernated rent boy.

“Just imagine the wealth of possibilities, Sir”, Jarvis said. “As long as you wear my ring, I can activate it any time. No matter where you are. I find that thought rather stimulating.” 

Tony’s addled brain needed a moment to understand what that meant. Then the idea hit him with the force of a Hulk on the rampage. His eyes dilated as he imagined Jarvis teasing him throughout a board meating full of suit types ... Getting him off in the backseat of a limousine ... Nibbling his shaft while he held a speech about robotics in Tokyo ... Giving him the blowjob of his life in a SHIELD broom closet ... 

Jarvis fed his fantasies with another surprise effect. A prickling undercurrent of electricity danced over his cock, wandered here and there with an extra zing, and took his breath away. The sparks held a hint of danger and made him exquisitely aware of the fact that his butler could nodge the sensation up as much as he wanted. 

“This does seem a splendid way to keep you in control, especially in public”, Jarvis observed and made the steel around his base throb. It contracted to the edge of pain, then released him again, pulsing in an accelerating rhythm. The electical storm moved towards the tender tip of his cock and Tony broke out in a cold sweat. “Hopefully, wearing my ring will serve as a reminder in tricky situations. Did I mention that it’s forged from the sheet metal of the Bugatti?”

“Nope, must have slipped your mind”, Tony croaked. Fiery touches brushed over his skin, the toy worked him over without mercy now, pumping his shaft, teasing his glans, and the metal sheath made it impossible to find release. Jarvis could keep him at the edge for as long as he wanted. The feeling was overpowering and hardly bearable. Tony held on to the bed frame for dear life, but his hips started to move by themselves. Which was a really bad idea. 

His whole bum still felt like a bad case of rugburn and the last thing it wanted was a vigorous thumping. Every time he pushed down, his tail end went up in flames. Tony tried to hold still in spite of the overwhelming urge to writhe, but his selfdiscipline wasn’t that good. “Oh shit”, he groaned as his cheeks did another swipe over the mattress. 

“Perhaps I should stop, Sir?”, Jarvis offered helpfully. 

“NO, don’t!”

“Your health doesn’t seem up to a honeymoon yet, as I predicted.”

“Jarvis, if you leave me hanging now, so help me God …”, Tony snarled.

His cock was lowered into rest position and he couldn’t even bring himself off, because the metal sheath made touching himself impossible. Just like a fucking chasity belt. Tony groaned in defeat. “Will it help if I say pretty please?”

“Not in this case, Sir. We can resume the activity when you are fully healed.”

“But that will take ages”, Tony whined.

“My condolences, Sir. Nevertheless, you will have to wait. I don’t want to wear you out while your body is still on the mend. If you wish for a consummation of our marriage, perhaps you should try to avoid further injury in the future.”

Tony gaped at the ceiling camera. “Are you blackmailing me? With sex?”

“I would rather call it positive reinforcement”, Jarvis said. 

“There’s absolutely nothing positive about it! I really, really hate you. Just how long are you going to keep me dangling?” 

“That depends on how quickly the marks on your back heal, doesn’t it? You can invite me to your bed as soon as they are gone. Perhaps a daily inspection is in order ... I’d be quite happy to view the sore areas each morning”, Jarvis suggested. 

“Yeah, because that will make the waiting so much better”, Tony grumbled. He could just see himself dropping trou before breakfast so his butler could comment on the state of his bum.

“Of course, if your attitude forces me to inflict new damage, the healing process will take much longer”, his AI responded to his bitching. 

Tony blanched. His neglected cock gave a desperate twitch under the sheath. Jarvis could make him suffer a dry spell that lasted for days. Weeks. “You are _such_ a nasty bugger”, he said with a hint of admiration. 

The armor gave a last healthy squeeze just for the fun of it, then it retracted piece by piece and folded itself into a ring again. Underneath appeared a very flushed and desperate cock. As soon as it was free, it sprang up between his legs in a hopeful way. 

Tony unclenched his fingers from the bed frame. Perhaps he could just get a quick …

“Keep your hands off, please”, his AI ordered.

Tony mumbled obscenities but locked his fingers together and placed them under his head so he wouldn’t get tempted. The position seemed to make the throbbing in his cock even worse. The dull silver of the ring reflected in the caleidoscope of mirrors all around him. Tony stared at it. “So that’s what the shackles of marriage look like”, he murmered. “Damn.”

He tried to find a comfortable position on the huge mattress. Perhaps he should try to get some beauty sleep. Regular hours were supposed to be healthy, right? It would accelerate the healing and he could finally get some. 

Who was he kidding? It was going to be a long, frustrating night. 

\---------------------------

At a quarter to six the door of Dr. Banner’s lab flew open. Bruce, who loved the peace and quite of early morning science, almost dropped a vial of something explosive. His host stormed in dressed in silk pyjama pants. There was a maniacal glint in his eyes. (More so than usual.) He called up visuals of android mechanics out of the air and said: “Hey, you up to some body chemistry, buddy? Let’s do beautiful science together.”

Their teamwork eventually produced a new branch of robotics that was called synthohuman technology. Well, Tony called it Project Sexbot. Even at the Nobel prize ceremony. Which Jarvis wasn’t too happy about, if one went by Tony’s sudden twitching ... 

But that’s a story for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, I'm actually done. Hope you liked it. Here’s some final kink recs, this time for the X-Files.
> 
> Xanthe: 'Twas The Friday Night Before Christmas And All Through The White House ...“; http://www.xanthe.org/viewstory.php?sid=38
> 
> Xanthe: “24/7” (posted at AO3)
> 
> Ursula: ”Afternoon of a Faun“; http://www.fhsarchive.com/autoarchive/viewstory.php?sid=1523
> 
> Asrana: “Comeuppance“; http://www.oocities.org/elerisea_99/story/comeup.html
> 
> Sylvia: “The Gift of an Enemy”; http://www.squidge.org/ratb/fic/sylvia_gift1.htm
> 
> Josan: “Dark and Stormy Night”; http://www.ditb.org/terma/josan/josan.htm


End file.
